A Dark Fantasy Spy

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When I opened my eyes, was there anything more shocking than finding my house in complete disarray?

The dining table was overflowing with wild plants and rock fragments. The well-cleaned rug was now a mess, smeared with dirt and dust, and what sort of chimney had my child crawled through? Their outfit was so filthy it was an understatement.

The scene was closer to a playground than a home, causing the middle-aged woman to wrap her head in disbelief.

“Son. What on earth happened here….”

The mother chided her child, who was covered in dirt and grime from head to toe, in a gentle tone.

“Are you doing this again to pray to that goddess or whatever?”

“No!”

The child vigorously shook their head.

“I was trying to do as the priest taught me! I wasn’t praying to a goddess… I was praying to the divine spirit!”

“Son….”

The mother turned her gaze towards the chaotic dining table.

Even though life had become tough and she couldn’t visit the cathedral often, and wasn’t particularly pious to begin with, the state of the mess was clearly unacceptable, even for someone ignorant of religion.

“I told you, didn’t I? Such things are considered idolatry and are not allowed.”

“But the priest said it was fine.”

“For the millionth time, it’s not a priest, it’s an inquisitor….”

“Still…. ”

The child sulked and lowered their head. The middle-aged woman momentarily worried that she might have been too harsh on her young son.

Since the declaration of martial law in the north, everything had changed. Life had become more difficult, and laughter had vanished from people’s faces. The citizens of the Empire were notoriously known for their stoic demeanor, but the Empire was still a place where people lived.

However, ever since the conflict with the magic realm had arisen, it felt as though people had forgotten how to smile.

Though there was naturally a hope in the corners of their hearts that this would someday end and people would find their smiles again, once lost, things rarely returned. Just like the left foot that had to be amputated due to frostbite from not finding a priest or a doctor, and the family that fell silent after entering the military.

Thus, the middle-aged woman’s heart ached at the possibility that her growing child might carry painful memories throughout their lifetime.

“Mom said that once the snow stops, Dad will come back….”

“…….”

“So I… just….”

A deep silence settled over the house. The child, still sulking, whimpered, while the mother forced a smile and gently stroked her son’s back.

“Son, it’s fine. Mom isn’t scolding you.”

“…….”

“Go and play with the other kids. Just make sure to come back before dinner. Can you promise me that?”

“Yeah….”

“Good, don’t cry.”

With tears abruptly stopped, the child nodded and left the house.

Though the house remained in disarray and there was much to be done, the mother could hardly take her eyes off her departing son.

“Oh dear….”

With a short sigh that seemed to be a combination of lament and soliloquy, silence returned to the home in the north.

—

Episode 12 – The Strongest Wizard in History

Among those active in the north, many have made a name for themselves in the world.

Mikhail, the Commander of the Military Government, adorned with the highest rank of general capable of donning a military uniform. Evangelos Rysidike, a descendant of the great archmage ‘Rysidike,’ commands the magic battalion of the magic tower. Pereyti, the commander of the Order of Saint Andrew, boasts a long history that stretches back to the holy wars during the East-West conflict.

There are many who have made their names known in the world, some of whom I happen to know well.

Camila Lowell, who came over from England.

Possessing the formidable ability to set an entire mountain ablaze—something most mages wouldn’t even dare to attempt.

Having graduated from a prestigious university in England, her intellect is sharp, and she excelled as an intern at the Information Agency, even receiving an offer for a contract extension due to her excellent capabilities. Her family background is also respectable. Thanks to following her sister around various conflict areas, she adapts easily to harsh environments.

Francesca Ranieri, hailing from Patalia.

An elite alchemist, she is a descendant of the great archmage ‘Ranieri’ and has served as a civil servant in the Magic Tower’s Secretariat.

Fluent in several foreign languages, she possesses a remarkable intellect recognized by both the Magic Tower and the Ivory Tower. Being from a prestigious magical family, she masters magic effortlessly, and she’s very knowledgeable about theoretical aspects. Having managed the oracle’s slush funds in the magic tower, she shows good business acumen. As a noble, she is accustomed to dealings with high-ranking military officers and civil servants.

However, among our group, the most recognized figure in the north is neither Camila nor Francesca, but Lucia.

“The saint has arrived….”

“Look, it’s the saint!”

Lucia’s recognition is the highest among our group in the north.

Her unique status as a religious saint and her experience as a healing priest in the northern regions have undoubtedly influenced her recognition, but her active community support has etched her name into the hearts of the people.

“Thank you so much, really thank you….”

“Thank you for your help, saint.”

Lucia traveled through the cities affected by the Imperial Army, helping the people.

Whenever someone was sick, she would personally invoke the divine and administer sacramental healing, and when someone was starving, she organized distributions with the help of local civil servants.

Since most of the people in the north were sick or starving, it was only natural for a crowd to gather around Lucia.

Thus, Lucia held mass for the gathered people from dawn.

“It is the darkest hour. Everyone experiences hardship and adversity in life. Among those living a long or short life, nobody wishes to suffer.”

“But just as, despite the dark clouds above, one day brilliant sunshine will shine, so too will this painful time eventually seem trivial in retrospect.”

“The righteous face many sufferings, but the Lord will deliver the righteous from all their troubles. Even if your hearts are full of worries, God will lift you from your tribulations.”

Waking up at 5 AM to hold mass, distributing breakfast to the people. After the meal, she cleaned up, visited shelters for relief activities, and when lunchtime came, she distributed meals while offering prayers. Once the meal distribution was over, she would return to care for the sick.

Lucia’s day was filled with charity.

Her everyday life was composed of either religious activities or humanitarian work without fail, so even if the citizens in the north had never seen her face, there were hardly any who didn’t know her name.

While Camila, Francesca, and I struggled through our hectic days, we dared not show any signs of our exhaustion in front of Lucia. Spending most of her days engaging in high-intensity labor, waking up early and going to bed late—could we really complain about being tired in front of someone like her?

Lucia, dispatched to the north, lived a life emblematic of the religious calling, perhaps bordering on obsessive in her faith, leaving me in awe.

“Wow… Saint Lucia. Seriously, how do you manage to live like this every day? Don’t you get tired running around volunteering while only sleeping for three to four hours?”

Lucia smiled brightly.

“I’m fine. If it’s about helping those who are struggling, should I really step back just because I’m tired?”

“You’ll end up exhausting yourself.”

“I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

As she replied, Lucia was still moving boxes during our conversation. These were supplies packed for the refugees.

“If you’re truly worried about me, perhaps you could lend a hand.”

Wiping her sweat with her sleeve, Lucia suggested. Despite the cold winter, she was sweating as if it were raining.

“I was just thinking that we always seem to lack manpower. You’ve worked at the Magic Tower, so you’d adapt quickly, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, no. It’s not that… It’s just that I’m a bit too busy to help right now.”

“Such a shame.”

Lucia pouted slightly, as if regretting it.

Something about her made me shiver, and I involuntarily pulled my coat tighter around me.

—

“Today somehow passed without incident.”

“Indeed.”

On a hill overlooking a small city far from the front lines, Lucia and I exchanged various stories.

Sitting on a park bench, Lucia caught her breath, smiling brightly as she gazed at the sunset sky.

“I should normally be returning to the cathedral to pray at this hour….”

As Lucia murmured, the faces of the clergy turned grim.

Lucia, who was gazing at the sunset, smiled sweetly.

“Well, I think it wouldn’t be a big deal to take a day off.”

With the saint’s declaration of no mass, the clergy cheered. Although they didn’t outright show their joy, their faces brightened in an instant.

Clergy who were happy to skip prayers—now should I laugh or feel sad?

At least I wasn’t being tormented by Lucia as the clergy were, so that was a relief. While Lucia was graciously asking for a moment to speak to me, I took a seat beside her and opened up lightly.

“I guess I’m spending the end of this year abroad. I can’t even go home and will just be working through the New Year. And in the north at that.”

“Is this your first time celebrating the New Year abroad?”

“Not really… Well, yes, I suppose this time it is.”

When being dispatched abroad, there are times during bad luck when you might end up spending holidays out of your country. Lunar New Year, Chuseok, Christmas—there have been many times I’ve had to send a few messages to my family from a safe place just to check in on holiday greetings and then return to work.

Since taking the role of Colonel Clevenz, I’ve at least had the chance to rest peacefully at home during holidays. Yet somehow, I found myself back in the field, enduring struggles again.

“Have you celebrated the New Year abroad before, Saint Lucia?”

“About two times. I’ve been here for three years now.”

“Oh, right, you were a minor back then. You must have had your own struggles too, saint.”

With cheeks tinged red from the sunset’s glow, Lucia beamed at the dusk.

“I don’t see it as struggling. It was just something that needed to be done.”

We sat on that hill overlooking the small city, continuing our trivial chatter. Lucia, having wrapped up her schedule earlier than usual, instructed that the evening prayers previously held collectively could now be performed individually.

The clergy, in awe of Lucia’s favor, scattered away to have personal time. At this point, I felt slightly conflicted about chastising Lucia for her relentless prayers or reprimanding the clergy for sneaking off to have fun.

Pressured into doing tasks on foreign soil, I supposed it was only fair to give them a moment to catch their breath. Regardless, I wondered whether they weren’t somewhat neglecting their religious duties.

But since it didn’t concern me, I simply called out to Lucia beside me.

“Saint Lucia, I heard people from the church are coming soon?”

“Are you referring to the volunteers? Oh… you meant the volunteers.”

I quietly nodded upon hearing that.

Though the Government of Abas had decided to support the Kien Empire, Abas was not the only state offering aid.

Currently, both the Cult and the Magic Tower were dispatching considerable forces to the north, and even dictatorial states with pro-empire sentiments were stretching their resources to lend a hand.

However, just governmental support has its limits. The Empire decided to seek limited support within the civilian sector as well. In this context, the Imperial government decided to allow foreign volunteers to come to the north.

As Lucia smiled, looking at the clear sky that had opened up with the sunset, she said, “I think that’s a good decision. It’s a joy to have people who will help the refugees here.”

Well, is it necessarily a good thing to receive foreign volunteers?

In my experience, some of those who wander around conflict regions under the guise of volunteers were not civilians at all. One of the typical identities spies use is that of IGO or NGO staff. I knew this quite well as I frequently traveled to sub-Saharan Africa under the identity of a volunteer.

Of course, it could be an unnecessary worry, but given my occupation, I wasn’t entirely confident in the reliability of the upcoming volunteers. I sincerely hoped it would just turn out to be a baseless concern. Yet, I couldn’t help but fret about the possibility that if those volunteers engaged in reckless behavior, it could lead to diplomatic problems.

However, there was no way I could express such concerns to Lucia, so I found myself only gazing at the sky, sighing deeply.

“It would be great if the volunteers come. Saint Lucia, you should let them handle these things and take a break for yourself.”

“If I stop the humanitarian activities, who will do them?”

“But you’ll really exhaust yourself. There are plenty of people who’ve come back sick after volunteering overseas.”

“I appreciate your concern. I’ll heed your advice.”

“Don’t just listen—please put it into practice….”

As the atmosphere of our conversation began to grow more relaxed, a single clerk climbed up the hill from below.

With neatly cut mint-green hair, dressed in a black priestly robe with a black fascia, a slightly cold-faced familiar figure approached.

It was Priest Rebecca.

“Priest Rebecca? What brings you here?”

“I came up because I heard you were here. I have urgent information to relay to the saint and the colonel.”

“Has something happened in the city?”

“Yes. A small issue has arisen.”

“What kind of issue?”

“It’s of a religious nature. I believe it would be clearer if you see it for yourself.”

—

The incident began with a conflict between a priest of the cult and a child.

As the priest, who was touring the village with his group, approached a child playing in an open field, he discovered the child had set up something resembling an altar and was praying.

Upon noticing this, the priest scolded the child and went off to search for a guardian.

Up to this point, it seemed like nothing more than a minor clash between folk beliefs and mainstream religion.

The cult strictly prohibits idolatry as part of its doctrine; it does not recognize any gods other than the divine spirit. Therefore, a narrow-minded priest having an argument with a local child could easily be brushed off as a simple incident.

However, something peculiar caught my attention.

“Hey, didn’t we see that kid before? The one who was almost caught and interrogated by the Inquisition?”

“Indeed.”

The child who had a conflict with the priest was indeed the same child who had almost been interrogated by the Inquisition.

Whether by coincidence or not, this kid was once again caught praying to a local deity in the north.

“Another case of sorcery or something, is it?”

“Looks like it.”

“Oh dear.”

Priest Rebecca explained that the child had tried to use sorcery and ended up in a quarrel with the priest.

Lucia appeared to want to let it slide, reasoning that it was just a child playing a prank, but Priest Rebecca seemed to think differently.

“It’s crude, but it’s undoubtedly sorcery. At least it appears that way to my eyes.”

“Where on earth did the child even learn to set up an altar? Honestly….”

So far, I had no particular desire to get involved. Whether the child was using sorcery was of no concern to me.

But then Rebecca’s explanation revealed something genuinely intriguing.

“One of my subordinates had a brief chat with the child while protecting them, and the child testified that they learned how to set up the altar and pray from one of the clergy.”

“So that kid learned sorcery from someone in the church?”

“Although they mentioned a priest, judging by their appearance, they seem closer to a monk. There’s no priest running around in brown tunics.”

The child had set up an altar praying to a goddess of the north, and now it turned out they learned sorcery from a priest of the cult?

As I stated before, the cult denies or does not acknowledge any gods other than the divine spirit, and worshiping any idols besides the divine spirit is a taboo.

But for a clergyman to teach sorcery to a civilian?

That makes no logical sense.

There must be something wrong here.

“…….”

I wasn’t entirely certain, but,

“…what is that kid’s place of residence?”

It seems worth investigating.