A Dark Fantasy Spy

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About ten minutes later, Lucia, who had stepped out for a while, brought a priest into the room. It was Archbishop Theodosius, who was staying at the Cathedral of Saint Basil.

The elderly clergyman, once a student of Lucia and now a saint of the faith, carefully examined the wounds on my body.

“Hmm…”

Archbishop Theodosius began to speak with a rather serious expression.

“It’s barely been a day since the wounds appeared, yet the surrounding skin is already necrotizing. This resembles the symptoms experienced by Inquisition officers.”

Lucia, who had taken a step back to observe the situation, looked at the archbishop with a worried gaze.

“…Having heard the circumstances, I have some guesses. But what do you think, Archbishop?”

“If you haven’t been careless in your lessons, and if you still remember what you’ve learned, then your guess is probably correct.”

A faint sigh, almost a groan, escaped Lucia’s lips as Archbishop Theodosius rendered his diagnosis in a serious tone.

“It involves a demon.”

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Episode 12 – The Mightiest Magician of All Time

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In a room at the Cathedral of Saint Basil, three people gathered in a corner that was out of sight of both believers and priests.

Archbishop Theodosius presided over the meeting, alongside Lucia, who was about to undergo canonization, and myself.

As Lucia tended to the decaying wound with a clean cloth soaked in holy water, she began to explain the situation so far.

“Based on the characteristics of the Inquisitor you described and the circumstances surrounding it, I’ve summarized the situation for you, Archbishop Theodosius.”

The smell of a corpse emanating from a living body, the use of strong incense to mask the stench, an unusual sensitivity to the weak divinity, unharmed by any attacks from the Inquisition officers, and the capacity to kill an Inquisition officer with a single strike—all these elements led Lucia to reach a conclusion.

“I have determined that a demon is involved.”

“……”

Lucia, who had been examining the wounds, turned to Archbishop Theodosius.

“You mentioned feeling a strong odor as soon as the person spoke, so I believe it’s likely a Possessed Person. What do you think, Archbishop?”

“The smell of decay is indeed one of the characteristics of a possessed person, so it’s not far-fetched…”

The archbishop closed his eyes slightly and nodded quietly.

“However, there are certainly some inconsistencies that make me question the assumption that it’s a Possessed Person. Perhaps… that individual might be a Necromancer instead.”

Lucia and Archbishop Theodosius exchanged serious looks, their expressions grave.

Lucia, usually smiling, frowned occasionally as they spoke, while Archbishop Theodosius, who was friendly but not frequently seen, wore a stoic expression.

“If it were a Necromancer, the Inquisition officers wouldn’t have been in such dire straits, Archbishop.”

“If the magician has been consumed by a demon, then that possibility becomes quite plausible. Even Exorcist priests sometimes witness such scenarios, Saint Lucia.”

“Is that so…”

The two engaged in serious conversation, and throughout it all, I could only listen in confusion, unable to grasp what the two were discussing.

Finally, lying on the bed in just my pants, I mustered the strength to interject with a strained voice.

“Um, what on earth are you talking about…? What does a demon have to do with this, and why are we discussing a Necromancer?”

Lucia, who was wiping my wound with the cloth, began to explain.

“As I mentioned earlier, considering the characteristics of the Inquisitor and the circumstances, it seems that a demon is involved in this incident.”

“Sure, I get that, but how exactly…?”

“Ah, that part…”

Lucia calmly presented the evidence supporting her theory that a demon was involved.

First, the smell.

“The stench like that of decay from a living person is characteristic of those possessed by a demon. The cult refers to such possessed individuals as Possessed Persons. Since it’s winter, the smell might not be noticeable outdoors, but it can’t be hidden indoors, so they probably lit strong incense as a temporary measure.”

Second, sensitivity to divinity.

“Possessed Persons are generally sensitive to sacred objects. They can react to religious symbols such as crosses and icons, or even items that resemble them. Thus, they likely sensed the weak divine presence within the amulet.”

Third, strength.

“Finally, the fact that this individual survived an attack from the Inquisition officers without sustaining significant injuries, and was able to kill them, suggests a high probability that the Inquisitor is possessed by a demon.”

Lucia added some vague comments as she trailed off.

“Of course, I can’t be certain; it’s a hypothesis for now….”

“……”

“The ability to cause wounds to rot and exert intangible forces to prevent a person from fleeing are traits often seen in demons or necromantic dark magic.”

Demons, Possessed Persons, Necromancers—each term felt alien to me.

The notion of possession or demonic influence was frankly hard to swallow, given my disbelief in religion and the bizarre nature of the claims. Though I might not know fully about being a Possessed Person, I’ve heard enough discussion of Necromancers while working as an advisor for Counterintelligence.

However, thinking about demons and Necromancers when I was in such pain felt overwhelmingly convoluted.

The wounds on my torso caused excruciating pain, and even the slightest movement sent waves of agony through me. The more pressing concern was that the wounds were steadily rotting away.

Only just after waking up, I didn’t realize—now I felt as if I might truly die from pain.

Lucia stayed by my side, nursing me as I lay helpless. She carefully wiped my wounds with the cloth soaked in holy water, brought water to me, and gave me antibiotics and painkillers. Unfortunately, they didn’t do much good.

Speaking with a tone of knowledge learned from who knows where, she tended to my wounds meticulously.

“Wounds inflicted by a demon or a necromancer are particularly critical in the first few days. Tomorrow will be worse than today, and the day after will be worse than tomorrow. I had intended to give you a detailed explanation today, but…”

Sighing deeply as she alternated between inspecting my wound and my pained expression, Lucia finally admitted.

“It seems you’re not in a state to listen. Perhaps it would be better for you to take a sleeping pill and rest?”

“…I can’t.”

“Then there’s no choice.”

Lucia, who had been urging me to take the sleeping pills, put down the cup and the pills, letting out a sigh.

Thud. As I continued to stare at the ceiling, I heard something fall to the floor.

From the edge of my vision, Lucia’s head kept appearing and disappearing as she busily moved about. After a moment, she lifted the covers slightly and climbed onto the bed.

Then, she chanted softly while raising her divinity.

“It will take a while for your wounds to heal. While it won’t result in complete healing, it will at least prevent the condition from worsening.”

“Even if it’s just to maintain the status quo… that would be nice.”

I managed to respond, and without further words, Lucia began to heal the wounds.