A Dark Fantasy Spy

---

The Magic Tower and protests are inseparable, like a match made in chaos.

Just like weeds that grow through concrete blocks, the Magic Tower stands as a state that has overcome the oppression of religion, and magicians, as a cost of resisting that oppression, have finally obtained freedom after thousands of years.

In that context, it makes perfect sense that protests erupt in the Magic Tower from time to time.

Given the full-blown war against a global religious organization, a protest against a mere government is hardly a surprise.

If you’re unhappy with government policies, just grab a sign and march out! If you’re feeling a bit feisty, you might even drag off some seemingly weaker officer participating in the protest (most people involved are magicians) and give them a good thrashing. If you’re really in the mood, why not smash a store window and grab some pricey magical tools? That’s the essence of protests in the Magic Tower.

Just like riots epitomize French culture, protests are one of many elements that make up the Magic Tower.

It’s only been a hundred years since the cult fought for independence, so shrugging off protests as mere antics seems fair.

The magicians, who despise being controlled and look for any chance to cover their faces with masks at the slightest hint of loss, are bound to treat this protest as a minor behind-the-scenes incident.

At least, that is, under normal circumstances.

“So the magicians have started a protest?”

– “Yes.”

“But it might spiral into a riot at any moment?”

– “Yes.”

“Of all places, in an area under martial law?”

– “Yes.”

Episode 12 – The Most Powerful Magician

I sing praises of unions and civic organizations, despite frequently shouting about the reds.

To be precise, I hold a special fondness for ‘foreign’ labor unions and civic organizations.

Considering my life as a spy, unions and civic organizations serve as stages for performances, meeting grounds, and safe havens for revolutionary warriors.

People gather with high hopes, some pure-hearted souls rush in with a spirit of service, others join for socializing, some need image management, and there are those dragged in against their will.

There’s no better place to exploit a crowd than this.

Since organizations like these tend to go out for rallies and protests, the sheer number of people allows for quite a few valuable connections. I wonder if there’s any job market outside of fairs or exhibitions that rivals this.

The situation now felt just like that.

“Shut it down, people!”

A middle-aged man in a robe pointed and raised his voice. Magic buzzed as his robe’s ends lifted, and soon, it began to sway fiercely as if caught in a typhoon.

“…What in the world.”

Having arrived at the scene immediately after receiving a message from Francesca, I was left at a loss for words.

People were flocking to a building in the northern metropolis like clouds. Even inside, the crowd spilled out, forming a long line outside. It would be an understatement to say it resembled a bustling marketplace.

It was a veritable truckload of people proudly proclaiming, “I’m a magician!” Each individual donned colorful robes, varied in age, gender, and race.

“What? This guy? How old are you?”

“No, sir, this isn’t the place for that. I’m unsure of your school, but please calm down first….”

“Excuse me, let’s pass—don’t block the way!”

“We’ve lost contact with Viscount Ricidique. Where’s Viscount Ranieri now?”

“Are there any members of the Necromancy School here? Anyone affiliated with the Necromancy School!”

Looking around, some clustered together by robe patterns indicating they were from the same school, while others with different emblems were chatting away, and a few were anxiously trying to find fellow members, reminiscent of long-lost family searching for one another.

I had never seen so many magicians gathered in one place since working at the Magic Tower….

“This is a complete mess.”

I rushed in after hearing from Francesca that there had been a protest, but the situation seemed far more serious than I anticipated. I was baffled by the entire context. According to Francesca, she was still gathering information and suggested we meet to discuss it.

I stared at the jammed entrance and the street full of magicians.

“…How do I get in there?”

A site crowded with people usually has its own chaos, but now charged with anger, the magicians were showing their nerves like a tightly wound coil.

Why a multitude of magicians were getting mad was anyone’s guess, but one thing was clear: they were causing trouble around them.

Shouting matches were escalating into scuffles. Grabbing someone by their collar was just standard practice, and one wrong move could lead to spells being unleashed recklessly.

The tense atmosphere was palpable, and even the civil servants managing the magicians and the imperial internal army forces stationed to control the crowd showed clear signs of distress. The officer murmured under his breath, while the troops wore anxious expressions, prepared for any eventuality.

Feeling the indescribable tension in the air made me want to get away as fast as possible. However, not knowing Francesca’s location kept me from moving recklessly.

“Where on earth is she….”

“What seems to be the trouble, Colonel?”

“Oh, Senior Lyudmila! I need to meet with the Administrator inside the building, but is there any way to get in?”

As I pointed to the furious crowd of magicians, Senior Lyudmila shook her head in distress.

“I’m afraid neither the Internal Army nor the Military Police can enter right now. Either wait for the situation to cool down or call Administrator Ranieri outside.”

“Even if he could come out….”

While watching the magicians raising their voices in minor skirmishes, I scratched my brow.

“I feel like something bad might happen if he comes out.”

No one knew what would happen if Francesca showed up in this ferocious situation. What on earth had caused this sudden uproar?

I hesitated to grab a passing magician and ask about the situation.

Knowing I might be at risk from an angry person, and the Secretariat’s magicians were busy dealing with troublesome petitioners.

The Internal Army? They were practically wall decorations. What would they know?

While I was trying to figure out how to enter the building, a loud curse rang out from the furious crowd.

“Hey, you jerk!”

With a voice booming like that of a martial arts master, the magician, who could’ve made a name for himself as an opera singer, hurled short, sharp curses while waving his arms around.

A flash of yellow magic flickered at his fingertips. As the tiny magic collected within the magician’s grasp, an incantation began to form.

“How dare you grab my collar! Want to die?!”

“Uh, um?!”

Perhaps offended by having his collar grabbed during the argument, the magician shook off the other’s hand and drew upon his magic.

Before anyone could blink, a complex magic circle appeared, coiling around his arm like a snake. He seemed to be boiling with rage.

Unless he was a combat magician or taught military spells, magic deployed in such a short time wouldn’t have enough power to kill someone. But even less potent spells could be fatal if one was on the receiving end.

Amid the brewing fight, magic was unleashed.

Screams of horror erupted from all directions.

“Ahhhh!”

“A fight has broken out!”

“Who’s using magic in a dispute? Are you even sane?!”

“Somebody stop it! Quick!”

As the fist encircled by the magic circle drew back and then lunged forward…

A gentle breeze began to blow.

The wind embraced the crowd caught in the altercation, cradling the magician who was raising his arms in defense and the one preparing to throw a punch.

Like a person’s gestures, like waves lapping at the sandy shore, the wind tenderly caressed the arm that was about to strike.

In that moment, time seemed to slow down.

The shouting magician, the one lifting his arm to block, the screams and curses erupting, and the people rushing in to stop the fight, along with those covering their eyes and turning away.

Caught in what seemed like a slow-motion tableau, I noticed a butterfly that settled on the clenched fist of the magician.

Carried by the gentle breeze, the butterfly perched on the magician’s fist, fluttering its wings slowly, as if awakening from slumber, before gracefully spreading its wings and soaring away into the distance.

Embodying the essence of yellow magic.

I couldn’t comprehend how that was even possible.

All I was sure of was that the magic wrapping around the man’s fist had ceased functioning.

The magician’s fist, amidst the butterfly flying away, collided with the other magician’s face. The look of shock painted across the recipient’s face upon witnessing the breaking of the magic circle and the ensuing spell was priceless.

As the magician who threw the punch and his target gathered their wits, those expecting a bloody showdown were suddenly taken aback by the scene unfolding.

“—When a person uses magic on another person….”

A clear, elegant voice took control over the chaotic atmosphere.

“There’s nothing legally justified outside of lawful dueling, warfare between nations, or murder.”

The crowd that had densely packed the entrance parted like the Red Sea, revealing a woman striding through.

Her long violet hair flowed behind her, and despite facing an angry crowd, she walked with an effortless grace, her frosty smile juxtaposed against her strangely condescending gaze.

“Lady Ranieri…!”

It was Francesca.

Walking in with grace, she cast a glance at the bewildered secretariat magicians standing awkwardly. Without uttering a single word, they jumped in surprise, as if burned.

She swiftly intervened in the quarrel, separating the two warring magicians. As the lower-ranking civil servants began tidying up the chaos, Francesca concluded her thoughts in a gentle tone.

“I’m curious which of the three just occurred.”

“Lady Ranieri….”

The magician who had thrown the punch barely managed to calm his flushed face as he began to speak.

“This is—”

“I’ll listen to your excuses later. Right now, I don’t have the leisure to tolerate your reasoning.”

“…I’m sorry. I caused a disturbance.”

“So then.”

Francesca surveyed the gathered crowd once more. After examining the silence among them, her gaze finally fixed on me, watching from a distance.

“Is there anyone who can explain what’s going on here?”