A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Few people can casually visit remote areas, especially if they are conflict zones.

At best, we might see government officials, peddlers, traveling doctors, or volunteers?

Traveling doctors are always welcomed in remote areas where the medical system doesn’t reach, and volunteers in conflict zones are as precious as an oasis in a desert.

The status of a volunteer in a conflict zone is such that even the reckless rebels and armed groups tend to leave them alone unless there’s a special reason (like a hostage situation). Of course, they also risk their lives to save others when entering a battlefield.

However, I can’t take advantage of either of those roles in this situation. I’m neither a doctor nor have I brought any relief supplies, so what use do I have as a traveling doctor or a volunteer?

Pretending to be a peddler is out of the question. How can I pass myself off as one when I have nothing to sell?

But even if the sky falls, there must be a way out.

I decided to actively utilize the inquisitors’ proficiency in Kien to impersonate a local civil servant from the North.

“A civil servant?”

“That’s the best option we have right now. Since we’re reviewing food distribution and aid projects, if we say we’re here for a population survey or some measurement, they won’t have any reason to doubt us.”

“Is that possible?”

The inquisitors showed a bit of skepticism.

But it doesn’t matter.

“Are you asking if it’s possible?”

I smiled as if I was honestly unsure myself.

“Right now, it might just work. But this is our best shot. We have no other alternatives.”

“…The Colonel has a point. Currently, we indeed have no alternatives.”

Priest Rebecca directed the inquisitors.

“Everyone, prepare yourselves. We’re going to pose as civil servants.”

—

Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician of All Time

With our identities decided, there’s no need to delay.

I checked the proficiency of the inquisitors in Kien and selected a few who could speak standard language fluently.

Thanks to my three years of service in the Kien Empire, my own Kien skills are reasonably high, and there are about two inquisitors who can match my tone and pronunciation. Surprisingly, Priest Rebecca had quite a good command of Kien too.

I gathered them and went into a separate discussion.

“Um, Priest Rebecca, and all of you will be posing as civil servants.”

Since we would be directly interacting with locals, I selected only those with excellent Kien skills.

“Priest Rebecca.”

Priest Rebecca produced a few suits from her travel bag. They were in fairly good condition.

I decided to have the inquisitors wear those suits.

“As civil servants, we need to be in formal attire while we stay in the village. What about the others?”

“We’ll set aside two as reserves.”

Those whose Kien was mediocre or slightly lacking were assigned as reserves. Priest Rebecca instructed them to stay on the outskirts of the village, minimizing contact with locals while also checking that no one suspicious was entering or leaving the village.

A wise choice.

Should anything happen to the inquisitors disguised as civil servants, we can switch them out with the reserves. Regular inquisitors with average Kien skills should be able to converse without issues. And even if they struggle a bit, simple conversations shouldn’t pose a problem.

While the inquisitors changed into suits, I also put on my own. It was freezing in a suit without an overcoat, but with a prayer to maintain my body temperature, I felt I could endure it for now.

As I observed the village through binoculars, I spoke to the prepared inquisitors.

“Let’s wait until dawn to depart.”

—

Even in the expansive Kien Empire, it would raise suspicion for civil servants to approach a village in the dead of night. So, we decided to wait nearby until daybreak to enter the village.

Seeking shelter from the wind, we took a short nap, and as dawn approached, I descended into the village with the inquisitors.

As expected, the locals quickly recognized the strangers in their midst.

“…Who’s that?”

“We are civil servants. Is this Kirneema village?”

“Indeed.”

“Is the village chief around?”

The few residents we encountered at the gate of the village guided us to the chief without any suspicion regarding our claim of being civil servants.

Under the turmoil of war, it’s hard to believe that a scammer would come this far, and since we were all in suits, no one gave us a second glance. Of course, many were curious, but that was that.

The village chief of Kirneema was a typical old man, full of wrinkles.

“Is this the chief?”

“That’s me.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Vadim from a nearby city.”

The chief’s hands were heavily calloused, likely from the hard labor of farming. It’s easy to guess he’s a farmer when you consider his rough, calloused hands and the farming tools set close to his modest home.

I tossed in some bait regarding “food distribution” and “aid projects,” much like a charlatan targeting the pocket change of elderly villagers.

“You’re saying you’re distributing food?”

“That’s correct, Chief.”

“Hmm… As long as it’s given, I’ll be thankful, but…”

The chief didn’t take the bait easily. Instead, he scrutinized us with a suspicious gaze.

It was clear; he didn’t doubt our claim of being civil servants but questioned whether a distribution would really reach such a remote village. I expected this reaction, so I restrained my response and patiently allowed the old man to gather his thoughts.

“Hmm… Is it really for the distribution?”

“Indeed.”

“I thought you were here to conscript folks. There’s hardly anyone left in the village besides the old, the women, and the children…”

“…”

“Alright, I’ll accept you.”

After contemplating for a while, the chief expressed his willingness to let us into the village, lamenting the food issues.

“Since you came for the distribution, I assume nothing troublesome will happen. What exactly are you planning to do here?”

“Oh, it’s just a simple survey.”

Once inside the village, we utilized our false identity to gather information.

To provide food and various aid meant we needed to conduct an accurate population survey while also checking on facilities in need of repairs, which prompted the chief to readily assign a few villagers to guide us. Though, they were merely elderly men and middle-aged women who could barely lift a spoon.

Nonetheless, since we came to collect information, there was no need to refuse.

Disguised as civil servants, I, Priest Rebecca, and two inquisitors actively used our cover identity.

Taking guidance from locals, I gauged the overall layout of the village while also gathering information from the villagers with whom we occasionally interacted.

The accurate number of villagers,

The approximate personal information of the locals,

Access routes leading into the village,

The food situation and patient numbers within the village,

Surrounding villages we interact with, and so on.

Over the span of precisely 1 hour and 13 minutes, I thoroughly collected information about the village.

“That was easy.”

It was as effortless as pie.

—

Deceiving the villagers wasn’t very hard.

Since the locals approached us first with inquiries, it significantly shortened the time and effort needed for gathering information.

Priest Rebecca looked at the villagers with curious eyes.

“I expected them to be unfriendly towards outsiders due to the conflict. This is a surprise.”

It seemed both Priest Rebecca and the inquisitors found this situation strange. While jotting down the details about the village, I chimed in nonchalantly.

“It’d be intriguing from the villagers’ perspective.”

“Still, I thought someone would be suspicious.”

“Suspicious? Well, not to that extent…”

It’s partly true that people living in remote areas are hostile towards outsiders and also partly false.

“Since we posed as civil servants upon entering the village, there’s no reason for suspicion.”

“Do you think they might suspect we’re impostors?”

“If they thought we were impostors, they’d probably just consider us run-of-the-mill scammers trying to sell something.”

In a village of farmers, especially in a conflict zone, most impostors would be scammers.

The village chief and other locals likely regarded us as genuine civil servants, or at worst, merely peddlers from afar.

Who in their sane mind would suspect a foreign spy impersonating an imperial civil servant in such a place? If anyone did, they would likely be a patient unable to lead a normal life.

Though, to be honest, I am indeed a proper spy. But that’s none of the villagers’ concern.

“Civil servants, how much more do you plan to survey?”

“We’ll need some time to inspect. We need to take photos for submission to the governing office and check around the nearby villages, so we’ll need to be here for at least two days.”

“Thank you for your hard work.”

“It’s just part of the job.”

As I roamed the village, behaving like a government worker, I chatted up residents and took pictures of buildings and roads with a small magic camera. The locals regarded my actions with no extra suspicion.

For reference, this magic camera was a concealed item from Dobok. It wasn’t intended for photographing northern military bases or important facilities, but who knew it would be used like this?

Anyway, as I scoured the village and snapped photos, the villagers firmly believed I was indeed a civil servant.

“Would you like me to take your picture?”

“Old man for pictures? Stop it. I’m too shy for that.”

“Come on, just once, help me out, sir. Do you have grandchildren?”

“I do have a granddaughter.”

“Bring her over. I’ll take the picture with you. My magic energy is still quite sufficient.”

Despite their initial reluctance, the elderly eventually fetched their grandchildren to take family photos. Regardless of time or place, children always triumph over parents, it seems.

“Alright, look here. I’m taking the picture!”

-Click!

“Oh my, your grandson came out beautifully!”

“Cough! Will you give me the picture right away?”

“I’ll have to develop it back in the city. It’s using film, you see. As soon as I return to develop the pictures, I’ll bring them back.”

“Thank you very much.”

The old folks smiled brightly, clearly excited about when the photos might arrive. I promised to return with the developed photos.

It was half a lie, but I felt no pangs of guilt. Making a living off deceit means I can’t let such things weigh on my conscience.

Regardless, I had to keep my promise of returning with those photos to revisit the village.

“…”

As I continued my shoot, it became glaringly obvious that there were no young men in the village. The subjects in every photo were comprised of either elderly men or women and small children.

Suddenly, I remembered the intel given to me by the civil servant I helped escape to Latouan.

Hadn’t it been said that the military primarily conscripted the ethnic minorities? Now, it was evident that all the villagers were indeed from minority groups. In Russian terms, they could be likened to Koreans or North Caucasians, or Mongolian ethnicities.

What could have happened to the conscripted individuals?

After a moment of hesitation regarding inquiring about the fates of their sons before reporting to the military intelligence agency, I found myself struggling to speak.

“…Next, please.”

After sending off a grandmother who just finished taking pictures with her daughter and granddaughter, I turned my attention to the next family that appeared.

—

The photo time combined with gathering information from the villagers wrapped up successfully.

I gathered up the full film, and Priest Rebecca, alongside two inquisitors, utilized spare time to continue collecting information.

Then, roughly three hours after arriving in the village, useful intel finally emerged from the mouths of the villagers.

“Is there usually no traffic from outsiders or regular visitors to the village?”

“Since those demon race bastards showed up, most have stopped coming… Oh, but there is one priest.”

“…A priest?”

“Yes, a priest from the cult visits occasionally.”

The village elders began to speak of the cult priest who visited their village. Though it was more a praise than just idle chatter.

“She’s an incredibly kind person. She travels all the way out here to care for sick patients. She also helps teach the children. Plenty of kids couldn’t attend school due to the turmoil…”

“…Sounds like a remarkable person. I’d like to meet her once.”

“Well, she’s not someone you could just meet on a whim. She’s a wandering spirit… Ah, by the way, she mentioned she would visit around this time, so if the young ones are lucky, they might get to see her. Hehe. Go see her for a checkup. That miraculous woman could definitely cure even the worst of colds.”

Summarizing the information gleaned from the villagers revealed the following:

A middle-aged man believed to be in his late 40s.

Always visits the village alone.

Frequent visits are irregular, as even the villagers don’t know when he’d come.

Possesses divine abilities to heal patients.

Occasionally helps kids with studies, teaching basic arithmetic or language skills.

A pretty detailed account. It’s clear that these villagers knew more than a child oblivious to the ways of the world.

“A good person indeed.”

“Absolutely! A wonderful individual.”

“…”

The inquisitors did not blink as they extracted intel from the villagers. Conceptually, inquisitors tend to think like their world revolves around heretics or apostates, ready to flip out at any mention, yet they chuckled and nodded in agreement with the villagers.

While I organized the film, I quietly approached Priest Rebecca.

“Priest, the village chief has provided us with a house. If we’re to stay, we can settle there.”

“…Understood. I’ll head there shortly.”

I glanced worriedly at the inquisitors and then headed toward the house the chief had offered. Priest Rebecca stated she would follow closely, directing the inquisitors.

Worried the inquisitors might lose their cool, I felt relieved that my fears were unfounded. The inquisitors quietly arrived at the house with Priest Rebecca, having caused no disturbances.

“You gathered quite the intel.”

“Let’s organize it right away.”

Having convened in the house, we pooled our intel together.

I shared rough information about the village and significant traffic routes, while Priest Rebecca exchanged details regarding the intel collected by the inquisitors.

One inquisitor, while checking a radio, began.

“Based on the circumstances, this investigator seems to be a heretic for sure. Various witnesses, including locals and a child detected using sorcery, have matching accounts.”

As expected, the priest spoken of by the villagers matched the one identified by the young boy. While it remains conjecture, it’s close to conviction.

As Priest Rebecca pulled out a chair, leaning on the table, she added.

“If she indeed plans to revisit the village soon, simply waiting here would allow us to ascertain that.”

“How long do we have to wait?”

“While true, that is a concern.”

The villagers claimed the investigator would return soon, but no specific date was mentioned. Even the locals had no idea when this apostate was bound to arrive.

Had I been the unofficial disguise, I simply would have waited at the nearby village, but unfortunately, I’m an official information officer. Meaning I can’t afford to leave my post unmonitored for long.

And the same goes for Priest Rebecca.

“Due to both our professions and identities, we cannot remain here in the village indefinitely. Assisting the saint is my duty, and if a civil servant stays in the same area for several days, the locals will surely become suspicious.”

“Therefore, we have no alternative. We need to deploy the reserves, Priest Rebecca.”

“I agree.”

In this case, we had no choice but to utilize the inquisitors we had set aside.

Given they could converse in Kien, we’d have them pose as traveling doctors or peddlers who wouldn’t raise suspicion while staying in the village for an extended period.

I cautiously suggested ways to employ the reserves to Priest Rebecca.

“Since they can handle divine energy, it might be acceptable for them to pose as traveling doctors. However, if there are no patients in the village, gaining entry will be impossible, so pretending to be peddlers is our best bet.”

Remote places like this always have a need for peddlers, as they’re the only means for villagers to acquire products they can’t produce themselves.

Thus, disguising the reserves as peddlers would be the best course, allowing steady observations over an extended time.

“I can agree to that.”

Priest Rebecca readily accepted my suggestion without objection. We gathered around the table to share intel, while other inquisitors sent communication back to the reserve group waiting on the outskirts.

With a headset on, an inquisitor concentrated on the radio.

“They’re monitoring the village from the outside and report that there are no unusual activities.”

“Tell them to keep a lookout while taking shifts. Are there any injuries?”

“Looks like they’re all fine. The supplies brought in from Dobok were ample, and they managed to set up temporary shelter from the wind.”

The reserves were hiding in a nook while monitoring the village. Since they hadn’t eaten while crossing the snowy northern terrain, it was only natural they’d feel hungry.

And I felt the same way, so we decided to procure food from the villagers. While one inquisitor went out to gather provisions, Priest Rebecca began pulling gear from her bag.

“What’s all this?”

“These are tools for identifying heretics. Let me explain.”

Unique gadgets from the Inquisition, ones I’d only seen in military intelligence training materials, began to unfold before my eyes.

Taking advantage of the lull, Priest Rebecca started explaining.

“These tools are used by the inquisitors. They generally carry a Bible for emergency use, silver daggers, and holy water as necessities.”

“Holy water, that’s understandable, but why silver daggers?”

“There’s nothing better at repelling evil than items made of silver. Thus, weapons or ammo used by holy knights and exorcists are mostly crafted from silver. Naturally, priestly blessings are also added.”

These items are sacred. Though unremarkable to look at, that dagger is a religious artifact.

Other intelligence agencies don’t have such things. They rely on poisons to take down heretics and monsters. No wonder the Inquisition is quite something if they create sacred items for their agents.

Well, that also explains how the cult has lasted for thousands of years.

“The main things are these three. The rest…”

“…”

I found myself making plans as if I were a driven villain scheming to invade China’s mainland. Whatever the case, I had to catch that investigator, who, for all intents and purposes, might be an apostate linked to a murder.

I never thought I’d experience such feelings, yearn for intelligence assets beyond just wanting to scavenge food from American forces.

I’ve suffered greatly trudging through the winter snow.

Regardless, all the troublesome matters in this world seem to stem from religion. Those wretched, religious zealots.

Unable to endure, I let out a sigh.

“Ah, this is probably why the Führer went after the Jews.”

“The Führer?”

“Never mind. Just talking to myself.”

Even with my nonsense, Priest Rebecca persevered with her explanation.

As she checked the operation’s gear, she took a breath before picking up one particular item.

“This is the key to our operation.”

“What is it?”

“An Amulet.”

The item Priest Rebecca presented held some unique features.

It appeared to be made from thinly spread iron, surprisingly thin, almost akin to paper. Despite its malleable nature, its geometric patterns drawn on it looked rather mysterious.

Priest Rebecca referred to this item as an amulet.

“An amulet is a kind of charm. It has the power to protect the wearer from misfortune and malevolent forces. This is a common protective gear issued to inquisitors, holy knights, combat priests, and exorcists alike.”

“Ah, so it’s somewhat like a bulletproof vest.”

“That’s one way to see it.”

As she held the amulet, Priest Rebecca called forth her divine energy.

As the holy power seeped into the geometric patterns on the metal, the amulet began to glow mysteriously, radiating an ethereal light. With a point at the amulet, she continued her explanation.

“In this way, when a priest infuses their divine energy into an amulet, it glows. The divine energy flows along the symbols inscribed on it. The crucial part is that it contains the priest’s divine essence.”

A brief overview of divine energy was shared by the cult’s priest.

“Divine essence is, in essence, the characteristics and power of the divine. Each religion has distinct divine energies, and individual priests also exhibit variability.”

“Similar to magical power, I assume?”

Magical power leaves its imprint like fingerprints.

This remains known as a ‘magic trace’ and is deemed crucial evidence within criminal investigations for identifying criminal magicians. In fact, the Magic Tower actively warns nations regarding banned mages and their magic traces.

For reference, I’ve personally heard this from the Magic Tower’s envoy, Juan Pablo Martinez.

Priest Rebecca nodded in agreement.

“It’s comparable. There are definite differences, but the gist is that divine energy can help identify a priest’s religious affiliation and identity.”

By now, I started to grasp the concept.

“So, you’re saying we should infuse this investigator’s divine energy into the amulet?”

“Exactly.”

Priest Rebecca’s plan was straightforward.

Infuse the investigator’s divine energy into the amulet, then conduct a test.

“While we might need to take the amulet to the Inquisition for thorough testing, we can extract much information if we merely infuse the energy. By cross-referencing with information from the priests and apostates dispatched to the North, or even those missing, we may well find our answers.”

“Sounds good.”

That’s an excellent approach. The Inquisition is adept at hunting down heretics and apostates, making them a reliable authority. Moreover, the saint himself, Peter, is a double agent for military intelligence.

While it’s a prime solution, one problem remains.

“How do we go about infusing the investigator’s divine essence?”

“Just getting close should suffice.”

Priest Rebecca continued.

“The amulet naturally possesses an ability to draw in surrounding divine essences. So if we get close and wait a bit, we should efficiently collect the investigator’s divine energy.”

“Excuse me, but if I may ask, you’re saying we need to get close? Isn’t it impossible from further away?”

“Not entirely out of the question from a distance. While it’s not absolutely impossible, it takes a considerable amount of time and risks contamination. Thus, it’s best to approach.”

After extinguishing the amulet’s divine energy, Priest Rebecca noted a few precautions.

“The need to approach poses issues, and while it will take time, there’s an even more important concern.”

“What’s that?”

“The surrounding divine energies must not interfere.”

The amulet is capable of absorbing nearby divine energies. Whether the priest wishes it or not, it’s a reflex that draws them in.

The catch is that all the inquisitors are priests. When the inquisitors, including Priest Rebecca, draw near to the amulet, their divine energies will inexorably flow into it too.

“Of course, we could forcefully extract them, but that’s not a perfect method either.”

“Are there any other problems?”

“There is. If the investigator is a person with heightened sensory perception, they could detect us. While theoretically possible to trace even weak divine energy within the amulet…”

Priest Rebecca paused.

“This is just in theory; it’s nearly unfeasible for a normal person. However, it’s another story altogether if the individual is an archmage.”

“Really?”

Well, I suppose I have no choice then. It’ll have to be me.

I extended my hand towards Priest Rebecca.

“Please pass me that amulet. If they show up, I’ll go directly to collect it.”

“You, Colonel?”

“Of course! Who else would do it if not me? I didn’t come along just for this.”

“I intended to ask the villagers for help, to be honest.”

She was thinking about coercing the villagers into her plans. There are plenty of ways to utilize a civilian without revealing an information officer’s identity.

“That’s not a very good idea. Who knows if a civilian might cause a ruckus? It’d be far better for me to do it myself.”

“Even so…”

“We urgently need to resolve this. Whether the investigator is a murder suspect or a mere heretic, finding out quickly is simply beneficial.”

Thus, it only makes sense for me to take action.

I pressed my palm forward. Though Priest Rebecca looked at me with concern, urging me to reconsider, I pressed for the amulet.

Ultimately, seeing no sharp alternatives, she reluctantly handed it to me.

“I’ll trust you, Colonel, but if things go awry, quickly retreat from the scene. I’ll deploy inquisitors around for safety.”

“There’s no need for that.”

If things escalate, a few aimed bullets to the head would suffice.

If that investigator happens to be implicated in any murder cases, that would be a cherry on top. Not only would it solve one issue, but it could potentially unveil those behind the monsters infiltrating the North, or those supplying dark magic for terrorist incidents.

If that’s the case, a figure of such caliber would absolve me in the Empire’s eyes. Even if they attempted to dismiss me from duty, it’s unlikely they’d engage in petty surveillance with operatives. There’s a mere chance of consequences.

“But how do you use this?”

“Using it is simple. Just keep it in your pocket or sleeve and approach. It should work.”

“Just sit still and do nothing?”

“Yes. The amulet will naturally collect the energy on its own. There’s no added need for you to do anything.”

I gathered information and instructions for the amulet from Priest Rebecca. Considering any potential scenarios, we devised an escape route and a rendezvous point post-escape.

Thus, armed with an understanding of its usage and a plan in place, we sat around the table, waiting for the inquisitor sent out for food to return. Along with the one communicating through the radio.

“I hope they appear quickly. Let’s wrap things up and get some rest.”

“I’d prefer to avoid unprepared encounters.”

“What’s so scary about the Inquisition? Just catch them up, crack their heads open with a Bible, or toss them into a woodpile and set it ablaze.”

Even Joan of Arc, the super soldier, didn’t survive a burning.

“Or we can tie them to a duck and toss it in the river. If it sinks, they’re innocent; if it floats, they’re guilty.”

“Which era do you live in, Colonel?”

As I casually bantered, the inquisitors and Priest Rebecca wore perplexed expressions.

Then all at once—

-BANG!

The door burst open, and a person dashed in, panting heavily. I craned my neck to see who it was, and verified it was the inquisitor who had just gone out to gather supplies.

He was soaked in sweat, even more so than the winter air would warrant. Yet, his hands were empty, meaning he apparently failed to procure any food. What a bumbling fool! Didn’t the Inquisition teach them not to steal food?

With a wheezy breath, the newcomer stumbled forward, and Priest Rebecca offered him cold water, urging him to calm down.

“Are you okay?”

“R-Reverend Rebecca…!”

“What’s happening that has you so worked up?”

“Outside—outside…!”

The inquisitor pointed back at the door while he stuttered, breathless and speechless, struggling to regain his breath.

Wondering what could have caused such alarm, I leaned low to peek outside.

“…?”

Before me lay the remote village under the mid-morning sun.

A calm pastoral scene stretched ahead, lined with wooden fences and houses inhabited by only the old and the children. The road, typical of the Kien Empire, was unpaved.

At the far end of a road now muddy with mixed snow and slush, a stranger appeared, limping into the village’s entrance while leaning heavily on a staff.

Dressed in a brown tunic.

…A brown tunic? That outfit belongs to an inquisitor.

In other words, that person is the investigator.

To my knowledge, there’s only one investigator who should be visiting the village at this moment.

After peeking outside, I returned to the house and started to arm myself with a pistol and the amulet.

“A guest has arrived.”

I have to go now.

Right this instant.