A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The Inquisition Officer, keeping an eye on the outside, spoke up.

“The heretic has entered the village. Currently, he is in contact with two residents.”

“What is he doing?”

“It seems they are having a conversation, Priest.”

Priest Rebecca raised her binoculars to check outside. After staring at something for about four seconds, she handed the binoculars to the Inquisition Officer and relayed the situation to me.

“The villagers are noticing the investigation and are gathering. There are quite a few of them. Are you ready?”

“Almost.”

I replied as I attached the silencer to my pistol.

With my left hand, I twisted the silencer onto the gun, pulled back the slide to chamber a round, and grabbed a couple more magazines. After securely stowing the pistol in its holster and stuffing the magazines in my jacket pocket, I finished preparing by putting a knife and an amulet in my trousers.

Priest Rebecca said, “You’ve even packed a silencer.”

“If a gunshot is heard, the residents will become suspicious. There must have been a silencer with Dubok, so you should prepare as well, Priest.”

“That’s understood, but remember that today’s mission isn’t an arrest operation.”

Her plan was to capture the heretic’s divinity in the amulet.

After saving the heretic’s divinity in the amulet, we’d take it to the Inquisition for thorough analysis to find out who is behind the terror. That was today’s plan.

However.

“Things don’t always go as planned, do they?”

“…That’s true.”

“It’s better to be prepared.”

With my preparations complete, I stood at the front door. The two Inquisition officers and Priest Rebecca didn’t say anything more, but I could sense a hint of worry in their eyes.

Well, I understand.

Nothing will happen.

Probably.

In the blizzard-riddled December.

The cold north wind blowing in.

“I’ll be going now.”

I calmly stepped into the biting cold.

—

Episode 12 – The Strongest Mage in History

I exited the lodging provided by the villagers and made my way to the square.

The Inquisitor, who had promised to visit the village someday, returned again.

The middle-aged monk appeared in the village as promised, and the residents recognized him immediately.

“Oh my, who is this? Priest!”

“Glad to see you, Brother Kiril! Have you been well?”

“Thanks to the Priest, I’ve been very well! Hahaha!”

The elder, among the younger males remaining in the village, fervently welcomed the Inquisitor.

Beside the elder was another old man, and behind them were children and women.

It was not just one or two.

Perhaps because the Inquisitor had been coming to the remote village to help the residents for several months, when news of his arrival spread, the villagers flocked like a cloud. The quiet rural village instantly transformed into a bustling market.

People of all ages eagerly welcomed the Inquisitor.

“Priest! Welcome!”

“Thank you for your long journey!”

Even.

“Isn’t that the Village Chief? You shouldn’t be here, given your leg….”

“Since the Priest has come, how could this old man just sit still?”

“Thank you, Village Chief.”

Even the Village Chief, who had been speaking informally to the civil servant (undercover spy), showed respect to the Inquisitor.

Although there was a noticeable age difference akin to that of a father and son, the old men treated the Inquisitor with great esteem.

In turn, the Inquisitor traced the sign of the cross, offering a blessing.

“May the Lord’s grace be with you all.”

A heretic, yet he has the audacity to casually mention the Divine without a change in his complexion.

That’s just how religious types are.

I mingled among the villagers to observe the Inquisitor. Comparing their reactions, his demeanor, and the intel I had gathered, I concluded he was certainly the person I had been tracking for the past few days.

“…”

Just as the Inquisitor, leaning on his staff, was about to move—

“…Hmm?”

Suddenly, he grew curious, questioning something that seemed to have just crossed his mind.

“By the way, who is that person? I don’t recognize him.”

The Inquisitor muttered, staring at someone.

Those words acted like a signal, causing the villagers to turn their heads in unison to follow the Inquisitor’s gaze.

At the end of their stares, there I stood.

“…”

Blending in among the villagers without drawing attention, I locked eyes with the Inquisitor. In a village where only old men existed, a young man in a suit stood out like a sore thumb.

As the eyes of the villagers bore into me, I maintained a nonchalant expression and spoke.

“I am from the Welfare Department at the City Hall.”

“A civil servant?”

The middle-aged Inquisitor looked at the villagers, as if doubting the claim.

“It’s true, Priest. That man is indeed a civil servant.”

“Oh, what is a public official doing here…?”

“I’ve come to inspect the distribution issue. Population survey, you see? That’s why I’m here.”

“Ah, I see.”

With a satisfied smile, the Inquisitor nodded.

“The Lord has said that He will protect His servants, and bless those who diligently work. You must be a good person, coming all this way to fulfill your duty. Um… Did you come alone?”

“No, I came with about three others.”

“Are they civil servants too?”

“Yes, Priest.”

“I see.”

Thud. Thud. The Inquisitor tapped the soft ground with his staff as he walked.

The villagers parted like the sea, not obstructing the Inquisitor’s path, and the Inquisitor slowly approached while expressing his thanks.

Eventually, when he stopped in front of me, the middle-aged Inquisitor rolled up the sleeves of his brown tunic and reached out for a handshake.

The Inquisitor spoke to me with eloquence.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, brother. May I ask your name?”

“…I’m Vadim. Nice to meet you.”

I took the Inquisitor’s hand. He shook my hand slowly while I moved mine up and down in response.

He continued to smile. It was a smile I couldn’t quite interpret.

“Well then.”

With the smile still on his face, he addressed the villagers.

“Please guide me to where the sick people are.”

—

The child to whom he taught sorcery.

Suspected to be behind the mysterious murders and terror incidents by supporting black magic, he stirred trouble as soon as he entered the village.

He headed towards a certain house in the village.

“Where are you hurt?”

“I cut my hand farming.”

“Show me.”

As the villager extended his torn hand, a white light shimmered.

In the dusty, cold house, the light emerged, and as shimmering orbs descended upon the wound, it began to heal in an instant.

It was a phenomenon that could not be exaggerated, occurring in the blink of an eye.

“Done. Do you still feel pain?”

“No, it’s gone.”

“You should be able to continue working in the fields, brother.”

“Thank you! Really, thank you, Priest!”

The elder deeply bowed, expressing gratitude for the Inquisitor’s grace.

However, instead of accepting the thanks, the Inquisitor humbled himself, making the sign of the cross.

“I did nothing, brother. I only prayed for the great Father’s grace to descend upon this land.”

The Inquisitor roamed the village, healing the people.

From the elderly who injured their hands working in the fields, to middle-aged women with pneumonia, and children with fevers.

As soon as he entered the village, he began knocking on doors, leaving no time to rest.

The villagers let him in without any suspicion.

“Welcome, Priest!”

“Good to see you, Marian. It’s been a while.”

“There’s still some pie I made recently, would you like some?”

“I appreciate the thought, but I’m not hungry. If it’s alright with you, I hope you can share it with those who are weak. I heard your son is ill?”

“Don’t even mention it. He hurt his leg while hiking the other day. Why does he go to such dangerous places….”

“Please don’t scold him too much, Marian. Children’s innocence may seem reckless in adult eyes, but sometimes it transcends adult understanding. If not now, then when will they have such adventures?”

The Inquisitor reached out, stroking the child’s leg. The child, who had been wincing with a swollen leg, soon regained their smile and jumped off the bed.

Though the Inquisition had called him a heretic, the Inquisitor’s skills were quite exceptional. By any measure, he surpassed the military chaplains or ordinary priests you’d typically find in churches.

One peculiar point was that the Inquisitor did not heal people with bare hands like most military chaplains or healing priests.

“Oh no, I’ve run out of incense.”

“Oh! Is that alright? Is there no major issue…?”

“Well, there’s nothing that would cause trouble for the villagers. If you don’t mind, could you lend me a flame for a moment?”

“Here you go, Priest.”

He held a peculiar censer in one hand. Unlike when he was outside, he always carried a smoking censer tied with a metal chain when entering indoors.

The censer, etched with strange patterns, emitted a disturbing smell of smoke.

Recalling how the priests of the cult would use incense during their rituals, it seemed to carry some sort of religious significance, but even considering that, the odor was extremely pungent. It smelled almost like burning marijuana.

Could it be some kind of hallucinogenic smoke? It might very well be. The overpowering stink masked the musty moldy odors and the villagers’ body smells.

The villagers appeared fine at first glance, so it didn’t seem that his substance was particularly toxic, but I consciously observed the Inquisitor’s actions outside the building to avoid inhaling any smoke.

The Inquisitor, holding the censer, walked ahead, tapping the ground with his staff while the villagers followed closely, watching him heal the patients.

“Oh…!”

“Look at that! Isn’t it always fascinating?”

“He’s truly amazing. Like a saint.”

To the villagers, who nearly had no television, a priest wielding divine abilities was an extraordinary sight.

Though I had witnessed Lucia heal during her daily practice, it was still a rare event for the Inquisitor to visit such a remote place. He became more than just a religious figure to the villagers; he was already akin to a saint or a holy being.

Of course, the Inquisition would be infuriated to hear such remarks, and even though the Inquisition had already entered the village, I chose to ignore the villagers who likened the Inquisitor to a saint.

“…”

The Inquisitor continued to lead the villagers, knocking on doors of houses with patients.

The sight was strikingly similar to the news segments featuring Kim Jong-un from the Korean Central Television, bustling with people like a swarm of bees.

Despite the report of the heretic’s teachings spreading throughout the village being unconfirmed, and the villagers merely following the Inquisitor out of curiosity, I wondered if the Inquisition’s high-ranking officials would truly let the village be.

I pushed my way through the crowd of villagers.

“Excuse me.”

I decided to weave among the villagers to monitor the Inquisitor.

According to Priest Rebecca, there were no other people capable of handling divinity in the village, and the only one utilizing divinity near me was the Inquisitor, making this the opportune moment to gather it.

Thanks to the villagers flocking around the Inquisitor, monitoring him was quite easy. I merely needed to loiter among the villagers.

Naturally, I wasn’t here just to gawk at the Inquisitor.

As expected, whenever the Inquisitor used divinity, the amulet responded.

During the moment he healed patients, the amulet collected the scattered divinity in the air and stored it, and I discreetly covered the pocket holding the amulet with my overcoat and jacket to prevent the light from shining through.

At that moment, an earpiece connected to a radio slipped into my ear, and Priest Rebecca’s voice came through.

– “Is everything going well?”

“Yes. More than I imagined.”

– “Good.”

Whatever I said was drowned out by the surrounding noise, so the Inquisitor was unlikely to catch on.

I discreetly adjusted the volume on the dial while covering the earpiece with my jacket.

“How much do I need to store?”

– “The more the better. The denser it is, the more effective it will be.”

“Understood. The employees from your department should be observing nearby, right?”

– “They are keeping their distance for now, so the heretics won’t sense them. But they are present to respond immediately if needed.”

Since the moment the Inquisitor entered the village, Priest Rebecca had mobilized the Inquisition officers.

Under the cover of the chaotic atmosphere, two Inquisition agents disguised as civil servants began surveilling the Inquisitor near me, while others who had been waiting on the outskirts equipped their gear and approached the village.

They were positioned to suppress the village at any moment should something go wrong.

I wouldn’t arrest the Inquisitor today, but you never know what might happen. I fidgeted with the knife in my pocket and mixed back in with the villagers.

The heretic was healing the entire village. From those suffering from severe illnesses to those with minor ailments, he treated a variety of individuals.

While healing was part of a priest’s duties, the villagers seemed to see it differently.

The residents bestowed gifts of crops and herbs, filled with gratitude towards the Inquisitor who had come risking danger to help them.

“Thank you again for your help. I really appreciate it, Priest. How can I repay this kindness…?”

“I simply did what I was meant to do. Offer your gratitude to the one who sent me here, not me.”

“Yes! Of course! You must be tired; please take a rest today, Priest. We will provide you with the best house in the village!”

By the way, the last sentiment came from the Village Chief.

He invited the heretic to his own house, claiming it to be the best in the village.

In a place where laws are stricter than in the rest of the world, it’s unclear if residents who aided a heretic could escape unharmed.

I felt a slight concern but shrugged it off, as this was not a matter I could decide upon.

“Thank you for the invitation, Village Chief. However, I would prefer to refrain from accepting any gifts. Your kind hearts are more than enough for me.”

The Inquisitor returned the gifts offered by the villagers, delivering a plausible response.

The villagers insisted he should accept, but he resolutely refused their goodwill.

“Still, please accept something we’ve prepared.”

“Self-restraint is a virtue of monks, so I cannot. However….”

With a smile on his face, the Inquisitor subtly tilted his head.

His gaze fell upon each resident’s face, and with a kind expression indicating his understanding of their suffering, he calmly proposed.

“If it’s alright with you, I would like to speak with that brother over there.”

The Inquisitor stated, directing his attention toward me.

I, quietly lurking among the villagers, offered an awkward smile in response to the onslaught of gazes.

“Uh…”

“Do you have a moment, brother? If it’s okay with you, I would like to discuss the village.”

“Uh, sure.”

I slipped my hand into my pocket.

The handle of the knife hidden beneath a thin cloth felt distinct.

“If you wish, then let’s proceed.”

—

Imitating a civil servant to gather intel on the Inquisitor in the village.

Should I fail, I would then disguise the Inquisition agents as traveling doctors or vendors to continue surveillance over a longer period.

A long-term operation based on prior reconnaissance.

Our plan was quite plausible.

Collecting intelligence on the Inquisitor suspected of being behind the support of black magic for the terror incidents, we aimed to correlate that with the divinity linked to the murder case to unveil his identity.

Although there is no direct connection between the terror and the murder, if the operation succeeds, we could reap multiple benefits.

At a minimum, we could capture the heretic; at best, we could uncover clues about the culprits behind the terror. With a stroke of luck, we might even solve the murder case too.

However, what I hadn’t anticipated was the Inquisitor asking me for a conversation.

“…You wish to talk?”

“It’s more of a request for assistance. It might even seem like a solicitation.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Is it alright if we converse while taking a short walk?”

“Sure, why not.”

The Inquisitor adjusted the pace, guiding me toward a hill overlooking the village.

Though remote, it wasn’t too far from the village, and its height permitted clear visibility from below, so should anything arise, the Inquisition officers could arrive promptly. I discreetly removed the earpiece while the Inquisitor wasn’t looking. From now on, our conversation would be relayed through the radio to Priest Rebecca.

The Inquisitor maintained silence, walking steadily.

The censer, which he always carried when entering homes, had long extinguished, but the vile smell lingered palpably.

It was unclear if the scent clung to his clothes or wafted from him, but I moved into the wind to avoid breathing it in.

After a while, the Inquisitor stopped at a small hill.

“Here it is.”

“…”

“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?”

The view from the hill was indeed beautiful. The entire village was laid out below.

The middle-aged Inquisitor, who had climbed the hill leaning on his staff, sat contently on a rock, still sporting his gentle smile.

As I surveyed the surroundings to gauge the positions of the Inquisition officers, I turned to look at the Inquisitor.

“It would be problematic if you were to ask a civil servant for a favor, Priest.”

He grinned broadly, “As one dedicated to my Lord, I cannot ignore the suffering of others. Human laws cannot persecute me.”

According to Priest Rebecca, the amulet would not reveal its existence unless seen directly, regardless of how close it was. Its divinity was faint to the point of being undetectable.

Of course, the same went for that of the clergy, but a spiritually attuned individual could sense the divinity of a priest. It’s like military dogs tracking covert ops through scent.

Yet that too only works at close proximity. Under the current circumstances, without being a high mage, a regular person couldn’t grasp the presence of the Inquisition officers.

I discreetly shielded the pocket containing the amulet with my overcoat and opened my mouth quietly.

“…Please, go ahead.”

I attempted to signal that he was free to speak without reservations, leading the Inquisitor to lean his staff against a stone while beginning to speak.

“Did you say you’re a civil servant? I heard you came to the village today, what are your thoughts on it?”

“It seems quite poor.”

“Indeed. It’s very poor.”

The Inquisitor nodded earnestly, responding in a calm tone.

“When I first came here, the small village was overwhelmed with sick people. Some were on the brink of death. Though things have improved, many still require assistance.”

The Inquisitor’s gaze turned toward the village. From the low hill, the quaint little village could be seen in its entirety.

“There were people going hungry. Children were teetering on the brink of death without even a morsel of rice. Babies were not exempt. How can an infant thrive if there is no mother’s milk?”

“…”

“Those with ample stores can choose whether or not to eat, but for these people, eating is not a choice. If they don’t eat today, they may not live to see tomorrow.”

The Inquisitor paused momentarily, gazing out from the hill where we had a view of the village.

Then he turned to me, offering a gentle smile.

“Is it wrong for me to ask for help for these people?”

I shrugged.

“Do you understand what a civil servant’s purpose is?”

“Public service,” is derived from the Chinese characters 公務, meaning ‘public’ and ‘service’.

In other words, a civil servant is one who works fairly for the common good.

Therefore, a public servant must perform their duties kindly and justly, as well as handle their responsibilities with transparency. Of course, the reality is often a different story.

“I understand your intentions, but while I can assist the residents here, I cannot show favoritism solely to this village. There must be others suffering elsewhere as well.”

“Hmm… That’s true,” the Inquisitor replied in a composed manner. While he may have expected his words to be accepted, it seemed he was not holding on to that hope.

I couldn’t quite fathom his motives for bringing this up. The Inquisition described him as a heretic, yet he seemed more like an opportunist than a selfish cultist, merely lacking belief in doctrine.

His thoughts were utterly unfathomable as he spoke in a steady voice.

“Well then, we must accept that. However, I sincerely wish for the residents of this village to be healthy and for the children to grow up in a good environment.”

“…”

“How long do you plan to stay in the village?”

“I’ll be leaving soon. I have many things to attend to.”

That wasn’t a lie.

I needed to return and organize data regarding the murder and terror incidents, and report to Leoni. Also, Priest Rebecca would be busy for a while. He would likely need to examine the Inquisitor’s divinity stored in the amulet and monitor the village.

I would also have to assist Lucia and Francesca. Francesca had intervened in the black market issues to assist me. While she likely intended to help with the terror case and also to make a quick profit, if I wasn’t there to help her, she would surely have a tough time.

Not to mention the troublemaking Camila. In fact, she worried me the most, constantly bouncing around like a rubber ball causing trouble.

The Inquisitor, studying my face, nodded in comprehension.

“You must be quite busy. Still, I hope you’ll visit the village again.”

“I will.”

The Inquisitor tucked in his staff after a while and prepared to rise. With his body pressed into the snow, the middle-aged Inquisitor stood slowly with a gentle smile and extended his rough hand.

Despite the time passed and the lingering odor affecting my head, I instinctively put on a smile and shook his outstretched hand.

“I suppose this must be fate. May blessings follow you on your journey.”

“Thank you. I wish you many blessings on your path as well, Priest.”

“…”

To the priest of a cult, one would typically offer such greetings, and the Inquisitor merely smiled in response, not offering any other remarks.

I gently shook the Inquisitor’s hand. Our handshake lingered for a considerable duration.

For far too long. An exceedingly long duration.

“….”

Ten seconds passed, then thirty seconds, extending into a minute of hand-holding; yet, the Inquisitor showed no signs of releasing me.

It was an uncomfortable situation.

Despite the cold wind blowing, the odor still enveloped me, and the Inquisitor maintained a smile as he continued to hold my hand. Something felt off, nearing the bizarre.

Eventually, having had enough, I snapped at him irritably.

“When will you let go of my hand?”

“…”

“Priest?”

He didn’t respond.

Instead of answering me, he posed a question of his own.

“May I ask you something, brother?”

As he spoke, a foul odor assaulted my senses again.

“I have been unable to contain my curiosity since our first meeting; what is it that you have in your pocket?”