A Dark Fantasy Spy

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On a night in December, sparkling white snowflakes danced in the air. The windows rattled against the fierce wind, while the bright moonlight illuminated the city shrouded in deep darkness.

The sirens announcing the curfew declared by the Military Government Headquarters echoed like a distant memory, carried on the chilling gusts of wind.

In the ruined city where a wind as sharp as a sword spread across the eerie silence, Francesca’s white hands gripped her robe tightly. She wore her hood snugly as she led the way, and I quietly followed behind her.

The scars of war were evident in the ruins.

Beyond the desolate alley filled with cold echoes and silence, a group of goblins greeted us with open arms.

One familiar goblin bowed respectfully.

It was the Deputy Guild Master of the Palm Tree Trade Guild.

“You’ve arrived. We sincerely welcome you back to our Palm Tree Trade Guild.”

“……”

“Please come in. Master Hormoz is waiting for the guests.”

The goblins gestured politely towards the inside of the building.

Francesca and I moved into the structure, guided by them.

To catch a fox pretending to be a tiger.

—

Episode 12 – The Greatest Mage in History

In the Dark World, heroes of various races emerge.

Humans, Elves, Orcs, Goblins, Dwarves, Beastmen, Mages, Demons, and many more. I remember reading something on Namuwiki that mentioned angels or other races appearing, but my memory is hazy, so I can’t affirm if that’s fact.

Countless races coexist, whether in a positive or negative light, and among them, the wise often lock themselves away in research labs, dedicating their lives to unraveling the secrets intertwined with these races.

In my judgment, the most peculiar race here would undoubtedly be the Elves.

While in the Earth realm, elves are known as “nature-loving tree dwellers who live for ages, singing songs of abundance and peace,” the elves in this neighborhood have a slightly different ethos.

Guerrilla.

Sabotage.

Ecophysics.

These three words represent the elves of this realm.

Elves, under the guise of protecting the environment, are terrorists and guerillas who destroy railways and factories, assassinate politicians, and attack humans encroaching on the woods.

To say they live alongside nature for eternity? It’s not entirely wrong.

Except for the part where, hidden within the ancient forests, they’ve acted as guerrillas for centuries like the Vietcong.

Singing songs of abundance and peace? That’s only half true.

Even as mages turn ancient trees into dried logs with their curses, artillery launches chemical shells, and airships spray herbicides, the World Tree and the dense forests remain ever green. Even when the military torches land, thick woods spring back to life hours later, indicating that the elves lead a rich and peaceful life is a clear fact.

Adventurers, clad in mass-produced swords, shoot arrows that pierce bulletproof vests, so it’s true they’re environmentally conscious. The elves treasure the World Tree more than their lives, so they are indeed tree dwellers as well.

Of course, environmentalists cannot be left out. All the elves’ antics are carried out under the pretext of punishing humans who destroy nature.

Due to this slightly skewed direction, the entire race is seen as terrorists, guerillas, and subversives, so there are hardly any nations willing to accept them normally.

But Dark Elves are a different story.

Born in the desert and traveling the world.

Merchants bringing back items worthy of being called the essence of Orientalism from distant eastern lands.

Measuring the value of everything in gold and blood, sometimes bestowing cool water to those dying in the desert, and at other times, chasing down enemies across continents for revenge.

That’s why Dark Elves receive a warm welcome, unlike the pale-fleshed creatures around here.

However, while I understood the habits of the Dark Elves, I was entirely ignorant of Hormoz. I had no information about him.

A fox acting like a king in a den devoid of tigers? Or a gambler who knows precisely the hand he and his opponent hold?

Hormoz greeted us with a smile that was hard to decipher, uttering,

“Welcome. I am Hormoz, Master of the Palm Tree Trade Guild.”

After exchanging greetings, Hormoz gestured towards his abode.

“Please make yourselves comfortable. Today, you are guests not of the guild, but of me personally, so I will host you according to the long-standing traditions of my race.”

We were surely inside a building, yet at the same time, we were not.

Where Hormoz pointed, there was a night sky flowing with stars instead of a ceiling, and a red-hued desert spread out in place of walls.

We sat in the middle of the desert, surrounded by a gentle campfire, shielding ourselves from the sand, wind, and cold with tents.

The scene looked as though nomads leading camels and mules might pass by any moment, captivating Francesca’s gaze. A groan escaped her lips.

“…Spatial Transformation Magic.”

Hormoz, who had been smiling, nodded affirmatively.

“You recognize it.”

“Why is this magic here?”

Spatial Transformation Magic literally transforms a specific space into something else.

Like changing the interior of a building to its exterior or converting a small cave into a grand temple. It’s slightly different from expansion spells, which are found in advanced military magic research institutes or other facilities.

Spatial Transformation Magic consists of far more complex and intricate rituals than expansion magic, and it’s known to have a high level of difficulty. Transforming the properties and forms of something entirely is a different problem than merely enlarging something.

“I’ve never seen an individual own such magic besides the royal families, including the Imperial Royal Family, or the renowned mage families.”

Hormoz replied in a calm tone,

“It’s a gift from a benefactor who saved my life. It wasn’t acquired through improper means or obtained from wicked individuals, so please don’t worry.”

“Someone gifted a relic from the Archmages, which even Oracles cannot replicate?”

“Exactly. But allow me to correct one thing: rather than saying I received a gift, I would call it a trade.”

A gift is something given purely from goodwill without expecting anything in return. Conversely, a trade means giving back what you’ve received.

Hence, it can be viewed that Hormoz received a rare magic, which only the royal families, including the Imperial Family and the descendants of the great mages, might possess, as a form of transaction.

Is this even possible?

“……”

I looked at the inscrutable Dark Elf, but Hormoz merely mumbled with a brazen expression.

“It was a good trade. At least, that’s what I thought until recently.”

“……”

“It seems I might have made a loss on this deal.”

Clap. Hormoz’s hands came together.

With that clap, he lightened the atmosphere as the host took his seat.

“It’s been a while since I’ve welcomed guests, so please feel free to express any shortcomings you may feel. I will do my utmost to host you, so please enjoy your stay.”

—

As promised at the beginning, Hormoz welcomed us as guests. Following the ancient traditions of the nomadic Dark Elves, he treated Francesca and me lavishly.

Settled in a tent in the desert, we began with the tea Hormoz offered.

“What would the lady like? Coffee? Or tea?”

“I’ll take coffee.”

“And the gentleman?”

“Please serve me tea.”

Hormoz smiled broadly and replied.

“We have wonderful tea imported from the East. It’s been less than three days since the elders of my tribe sent it, so you will be the first to enjoy it.”

Upon Hormoz’s gesture, the Deputy Guild Master issued orders. As the goblin, the most powerful figure after Hormoz, gave commands, the guild’s staff promptly brought out refreshments.

Francesca, being from Patalia, requested coffee, and Hormoz tilted the teapot to begin serving.

“My homeland, the Mauritania Continent, isn’t suitable for tea cultivation.”

Strange-shaped glass cups filled with tea.

“Tea requires adequate sunlight, consistent rainfall, and a cool climate. It can’t be cultivated in the hot sun of the desert. Yet right now, in the Mauritania Continent, tea is yielding more profit than any other product.”

Hormoz sipped the tea first and then posed a question to me.

“Do you know why?”

“Because the Dark Elves spread tea in the Mauritania Continent.”

“Correct. You are quite knowledgeable.”

The Dark Elf guild master checked the aroma and taste of the tea and poured another cup for me.

Was it Jordan? When I visited a Bedouin’s home, the host behaved similarly to Hormoz. The hosts often verify the tea they serve to guests first, and once they determine it’s of good quality, they serve it to their guests.

Maybe Hormoz deemed it acceptable to serve me, for he handed me the tea.

“Thank you.”

I took a sip of the tea Hormoz mentioned was brought from the East.

Something warm filled my mouth, leaving a minty essence, like…

“…….”

“What’s wrong?”

“…It tastes like toothpaste in the tea. What is this?”

“That’s just how this tea is. Isn’t it alright?”

“…….”

Hormoz smiled while sipping what tasted worse than factory waste. Not to tease, but truly enjoying the taste of the tea was evident in his smile.

“…….”

Suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue, I pressed my temples.

Francesca seemed to enjoy her coffee, savoring it in silence, while Hormoz committed the atrocious toothpaste-tasting tea to the depths of his cup, pouring himself another serving without a second thought.

At this rate, I might genuinely need to bring Camila to properly handle this guy, considering the British are traditionally hard counters to blacks.

The horrid minty taste tea ruined my appetite, yet aside from that, Hormoz’s hospitality was impeccable.

He presented us with the finest items he owned within the desert tent.

“This yogurt was sent from our Saria Tribe. You must be hungry, so please eat before it cools down.”

Homemade yogurt made from sheep’s milk by the Dark Elves of Saria. Traditional bread from the Mauritania Continent. Lamb dishes seasoned with spicy spices.

Tearing off a piece of freshly baked bread, placing a piece of lamb on top, and dipping it in the yogurt, the rich Middle Eastern flavors began to fill my mouth. Combining it with the bread soaked in the meat’s marinade beneath the plate was heavenly.

“…Ah, brings back memories.”

In no time, I finished the simple meal Hormoz prepared.

The hospitality didn’t end there.

“I’m glad it suits your palate. Do you smoke?”

“Do you have a hookah?”

“Of course. I’ll have it prepared immediately.”

At my request, the guild’s goblins brought out the hookah. After finishing a hearty meal, I sat with Hormoz around the campfire, enjoying shisha.

Huff-

Taking a deep breath, the sweet, fruity smoke filled my lungs.

The smoke flowed through the glass tube, entering my lungs, and I exhaled the sweet aroma through my nose.

“…Oh.”

Is this a desert or a paradise?

Special tea, a hearty meal, and shisha afterward.

Hormoz certainly upheld his end of the bargain. Even for someone who spent years wandering the Middle East, it was hardly lacking.

Honestly, at this point, I thought it wouldn’t be wrong to just head home.

“…Colonel.”

After receiving Francesca’s discontented glare, I felt a twinge of guilt.

“I’m sorry. I got a bit too carried away, didn’t I?”

“You should be apologetic after smoking shisha for over thirty minutes in front of the guild master.”

“Aha….”

I chuckled awkwardly and handed the shisha back to Hormoz.

“We are guests here, Francesca. Mr. Hormoz welcomed us not just as guild master but as a host. He would permit us to stay overnight and discuss matters tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.”

Hormoz replied with a warm smile, taking a puff of the shisha.

The swirling smoke flowed from the lips of the Dark Elf, filling the tent with an aroma so rich that aromatherapy would be envious.

Hormoz, relishing the shisha, spoke gently towards Francesca.

“As you pointed out, our Dark Elf hospitality is entirely centered around the guests. Given that we host travelers crossing the desert, it’s only natural we show courtesy. If you feel the need to recover from your journey fatigue, please don’t hesitate to make yourselves comfortable here. I hold you in the highest regard.”

“See?”

“…….”

Francesca’s cold gaze landed on me.

“…Ahem.”

Clearing my throat lightly to shift the mood, I decided to indulge in a final shisha puff before diving into the main topic.

“Alright. We’ve had enough hospitality, so let’s get to the point.”

—

As the delightful snacks, meals, and shisha service came to an end, we settled in the desert tent, surrounded by the stars, gathered around the campfire, and began our discussion.

To be honest, there wasn’t much to discuss.

“I wanted to share some urgent information regarding an inquiry you made about the guild and recent incidents in the North.”

Hormoz, the Master of the Palm Tree Trade Guild and a Dark Elf from the Saria Tribe,

As the host, he continued speaking in a serious tone.

“Firstly, I have a question to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

The reasons for nomadic peoples hosting guests are varied, but the two primary ones are these.

First, the relationship between the host and the guest.

The host and guest’s relationship isn’t a vertical structure of absolute superiority and inferiority.

Life among nomads isn’t always easy, and inevitably, one encounters others along the way, whether intentionally or not. Given that nomads can’t always live in ideal circumstances, they eventually require assistance from other individuals or tribes.

Thus, when nomads find themselves in need, they believe that, just as they had once done, someone will provide them with goodwill. They treat their guests with generosity, knowing one day they too may take on the role of the host.

Secondly, the importance of the guest itself.

Living within a tribal community for a lifetime, there will inevitably come moments when one becomes curious about the news of the world. Guests from distant foreign lands, away from the cities, can serve as outlets for the nomads to learn how events unfold in the world.

However, they can’t simply demand information as empty pleasantries. The saying goes, “one must eat before talking,” so nomads show their sincerity by hosting guests, and in return, the guests offer information as a form of respect for the food and hospitality received. It’s a kind of unspoken exchange.

It’s worth noting that this method of obtaining information from travelers was a favorite among the ancient intelligence agencies (though the institutions themselves were established after the world wars, primitive forms of information activity existed since antiquity).

During the Cold War, Western intelligence agencies would interrogate civilians returning from the Eastern Bloc for various pieces of information.

With that, Hormoz, bearing the role of a host, posed a question to us, his guests.

“I recently heard that the Military Government Headquarters eliminated numerous criminal organizations. They were all linked to the black market in the North. If I’m correct….”

“Are you asking if we spearheaded that?”

“Yes.”

Upon Hormoz’s response, Francesca and I exchanged glances.

After a brief moment of silent understanding, I turned back to Hormoz to answer.

“We didn’t lead it, but we certainly intended for it to happen.”

The act of the Military Government Headquarters wiping out criminal organizations didn’t pose an issue. The North was currently in a unique situation, and the Imperial Family had declared martial law, granting the Military Government considerable authority. That authority was enormous, allowing for execution without trial.

However,

“As a diplomat, I have never interfered in the chain of command of the Military Government Headquarters. Neither did the administrators. We had no direct involvement in the purge conducted by the Military Government Headquarters.”

As an Abas diplomat, my influence on the Military Government Commander could interpret as a potential problem, depending on the interpretation. Not a significant one, yet the Empire might choose to expel a few diplomats, including myself.

There was little we could do. For the Imperial Military Police executing criminals was a law enforcement activity, yet if it was interpreted as a foreign diplomat instigating the execution of citizens, it could be seen as internal interference.

Still, there’s a clear distinction between the two.

Nonetheless, I thankfully possessed a knack for deflecting the facts like this to solve things quickly. Things like disguising an assassination as a gangster’s death or provoking a dispute among tribes that were not on friendly terms. Moving around internationally as instructed by the Information Command led me to acquire this talent naturally.

“…I see.”

Hormoz muttered as if at last, he was able to confirm something.

While he nodded and pondered, Francesca spoke up, and I quickly took another puff of the shisha.

…Ah, this is heavenly. Smoking after thirty years takes you places.

“Guild Master.”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember the information we sought from you earlier? About someone in the North who deals with black magic and can distribute it?”

Hormoz nodded.

“It was regarding a request to track down someone connected to the black magic that emanated from the scene of the terrorist attack at Abas. Their identity was shared with the terrorists. Would my memory serve me right?”

“Correct.”

The shady merchant who supplied the black magic to the terrorists in No Man’s Land. Even after several decades, while there are details about their unchanged appearance and strange information about taking children somewhere, nothing can be guessed about their identity.

The only thing: they are said to converse in Kien.

That’s why we came North and sought Hormoz for information again. He had initially declined once, yet here we were, fated to meet again.

“……”

Hormoz exhaled a puff of shisha smoke, and I cautiously took a hit from the shisha he set down.

“As you mentioned, I’ve done some digging into it. I’ve indeed gathered some information. I would be willing to sell that information to you, should you accept my ‘offer.'”

“…An offer?”

“A rate of exchange. I would sell you the information, and I will expect a fair price in return.”

Hormoz, responding in a serious tone, began to illuminate his golden eyes through the thick smoke.

“What I’m asking for is quite simple.”

“Please, go ahead, Guild Master.”