A Dark Fantasy Spy

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After a fierce battle with the demon, I spent the night with Lucia, but suddenly a riot broke out. Rather than calling it a protest, “chaos” would be a more fitting term.

It was a collective movement initiated by the magicians.

However, upon deeper reflection, there’s something peculiar about this situation.

Collective action is typically driven by a certain direction, regardless of its cause. Whether it’s anger or demands, it implies that there’s something for people to empathize with.

From this perspective, the actions displayed by the magicians right now make no sense.

Instead of orchestrating any protest or riot, they seemed more like frightened people fleeing in panic. The disarray and lack of structure felt reminiscent of a crowd caught up in a frenzy.

Honestly, I still don’t know for sure why the magicians are causing such a disturbance…

“What on earth happened in the last two days?”

“Colonel, I’d assume you might know something.”

“Well… let’s move to a different spot and talk.”

Today, I felt as if I might finally grasp the reason behind it all.

—

Episode 12 – The Most Powerful Magician in History

—

“It’s because of the rumors.”

Inside the now-empty building, while our inner forces and military police kept watch, we made our way to a small office.

Francesca, having drawn the curtains and seated herself, spoke in a subdued voice. There was a rasp in her tone that suggested fatigue.

“Rumors?”

“A few magicians working in the nearby town reported things they saw, heard, and felt early the day before yesterday.”

Though she usually interacted with a regal demeanor, her face bore rare signs of exhaustion.

“Gunfire, strange noises, shouts. The clashing sounds of military equipment and shockwaves rising from the underground. A palpable divine presence accompanied by an ominous energy of unknown origin. These were the common sensations reported by magicians from the evening until dawn of the day before yesterday.”

“….”

“And at dawn, a swarm of clerics emerged from the underworld.”

With an upright posture and chin held high, the weariness that caffeine couldn’t mask was evident on her face.

“Do you know anything about this?”

Leaning back in my chair, I spoke without much thought.

“Would I even know what’s going on?”

I then recounted everything that had transpired that night to Francesca. From the demon I faced underground, Lucia’s Grand Exorcism, the Muspel summoned from hell, the necromancer who appeared midway, to Veronica and the Inquisition arriving at a critical moment, the fierce battle, the necromancer’s demise, and the buried demon.

Francesca listened earnestly with a solemn expression.

“Ah… so that’s how things unfolded?”

“Yes.”

“Demon and necromancer… this is no small affair.”

According to her, the magicians from the Magic Tower working in the city sensed the battle occurring underground that night.

The fighting was so intense that even ordinary citizens felt its impact. Naturally, the more perceptive magicians would detect anything suspicious happening beneath the surface.

The issue was that the magicians from the Magic Tower witnessed the clerics emerging from below at dawn.

With the Empire’s combat magicians and magic department investigators being killed, and the Duke allowing the Inquisition’s investigation, it’s no surprise the magicians viewed the clerics as conspirators under the northern turmoil.

“No wonder the Inquisition’s forces started moving all of a sudden. The atmosphere among the Tower folks must have turned very tense. The magicians who first saw it said the ground was shaking and they thought demons were attacking from below.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“It felt like walking on thin ice.”

Francesca, seemingly complaining, pointed a finger towards the doorway.

“Did you see the magicians rushing out of the building earlier?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Those are the magicians dispatched to the north. They are the elders from their respective sects. Elders? Senior members? I’m not sure how to explain it, but you can think of them as people in such roles.”

Francesca clarified why the elders from the sects approached her. They came seeking specifics due to the rumors spreading among the magicians who witnessed the previous night’s events.

Of course, it wasn’t just them; high-ranked individuals, magicians who came to investigate, those worried enough to stop by, and random passing magicians all converged here, creating pandemonium.

“Everyone was panicked. They were saying we should get to a safe location or return to the Tower. Some suggested calling the magic battalion engaged on the front lines here, while others argued for an investigative report to be sent to the Empire.”

“That all sounds unrealistic.”

“They probably understand that well. But what can they do? They’re scared, and they have to do something.”

Countless suspicions circulated.

Ultimately, while their fears and doubts may have been unfounded, this nonetheless represented a dire situation.

There was no proof that the necromancer appeared. Witnesses existed, but all who could testify were clerics. The magicians from the Tower, harboring distrust towards the clerics, would likely ignore their claims, and it’s very likely they would cling to their doubts and press for verification.

After all, suspicion tends to spiral endlessly.

Francesca wasn’t oblivious to this.

“I understand the situation. Now we need to find evidence to calm the people.”

With her legs crossed, Francesca rested her chin in her hand, striking a thoughtful pose.

“Considering it’s a necromancer, it’s likely they were a magician. An exile? Or perhaps an Ivory Tower magician? Maybe even from the Magic Tower. Did they have any distinct traits? Anything about the magic they utilized or the color of their magic?”

“Besides the curse they cast on Lucia, I can’t think of any other spells, but I remember their magic was green.”

“Green? There are indeed magicians registered with the Tower who wield green magic…”

Tap. Tap.

Her slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. The nervous rhythm reflected an anxious heart, maintaining a steady pace, showing no signs of slowing down.

Francesca couldn’t hide her complicated feelings. After all, it was common knowledge that most necromancers emerged from magician backgrounds. Not only were they frowned upon wherever they went, but necromancers, along with exiles, stood as one of the most disgraceful figures in the magical world.

“If it’s a curse, would that indicate a connection to the sorcery school? Given that voodoo closely relates to sorcery, it’s not an unreasonable assumption. Didn’t they say the necromancer’s soul was eaten by a demon?”

“Yeah, they turned into a mummy.”

“Hmm… I don’t know much about necromancers, but that sounds a bit strange. Even for a demon as a contract partner, they shouldn’t be able to absorb the necromancer’s soul directly.”

“What if it was a fraudulent contract?”

As I shrugged, I noticed Francesca squinting her eyes.

“Right now, a surefire way to calm the chaos would be to secure evidence of the necromancer’s remains. Ideally, capturing the demon itself would be even better…”

Her exhausted voice trailed off.

“Well, both options seem practically challenging.”

Regardless of whether the necromancer was alive or dead, excavating a demon that was buried several dozen or possibly even hundreds of meters underground would prove exceedingly difficult.

In the same breath, retrieving the necromancer’s body lying next to it was no simple task either.

“Couldn’t we easily uncover it using magicians?”

“That depends on the circumstances at the site, but in the middle of winter, with them being clothed, many could easily fall victim to frostbite. It wouldn’t be a task completed in a couple of hours. Moreover, there’s concern about surrounding buildings or underground channels collapsing.”

Francesca began piecing together the magical knowledge, the situation at hand, and the information gathered to figure out how to quell the crisis.

I silently listened to her talk across the table, eventually posing a question.

“About the necromancer’s remains…”

“Yes, Colonel?”

“Do we need to bring the entire body?”

My question was aimed at whether an intact corpse was necessary to make people accept whatever inspections or demonstrations we might conduct.

Francesca shook her head.

“No. If we had an intact body, it would certainly aid in examination, but it’s not imperative to have a whole body as evidence.”

“Then how about this size?”

“What size are you referring to?”

I grasped my wrist with my left hand, below the right wrist.

“This size of a wrist.”

“Hmm…”

Francesca’s eyes narrowed as she contemplated for some time, trying to gauge the size. Suddenly, she spoke.

“Well, if it’s that size, we might be able to conduct some examinations.”

“Really? Then we won’t need to call magicians to start digging.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

Her expression showed confusion as she questioned me, and I scratched the back of my head while explaining.

“I brought back a wrist.”

“A wrist? Whose wrist are you talking about?”

“The necromancer’s wrist.”

“…Where did you get that from?”

“I cut it from the corpse.”

“…….”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Francesca stared at me as if I were a lunatic, but I couldn’t care less.

What’s good is good, right?

—

The necromancer’s wrist, placed deep in the hotel’s freezer, was delivered to Francesca.

Surprisingly, it had shown no signs of decay at all. Considering it was winter and stored in a freezer, it was indeed quite a bizarre occurrence.

“We are planning to gather the senior members of the sect and the secretariat staff to observe the examination. The Imperial Ministry of Magic will proceed with the inspection.”

“And what about the Inquisition? Don’t they have a joint investigation team that includes them? Is there no concern about backtalk?”

“If it becomes known that it was a necromancer’s remains, there will be no further doubts.”

As she mentioned, presenting the necromancer’s wrist as evidence proved highly effective.

The examination carried out by the Kien Imperial Ministry of Magic, with the participation of both the Tower’s magicians and the clerics of the Cult, concluded successfully.

Utilizing the latest equipment brought from the capital, Petrogard, the Imperial Ministry managed to detect significant amounts of dark magic associated with the necromancer’s wrist.

From that moment on, the magicians who had been clamoring about the Inquisition’s conspiracies had to keep their mouths shut.

Necromancers, alongside exiles, were among those unforgivable in the magical society.

Randomly voicing absurd speculation might lead to unwanted controversies, leaving them susceptible to brain tests under the pretext of mental contamination, or worse, facing eternal confinement in the notorious Crystal Prison.

In any case, the justification now shifted to the Inquisition.

Rather than fretting over the anxious magicians, I resolved to focus on something more productive.

“What about the necromancer? Have their identities been determined?”

“No. Given they’ve transformed into a mummy, obtaining fingerprints is difficult. The Ministry has requested help from other investigative agencies, but both fingerprint analysis and examining the residual magical signatures seem challenging.”

Regrettably, determining the necromancer’s identity appeared to be a long shot.

As is common in places where scientific investigative techniques lag behind, the Ministry failed to secure any prints from the mummy-like form, and attempts to capture the residual magical signatures also met with failure.

I heard it was because the magic had transformed to such an extent that even after testing, results could not be obtained.

I decided to leave this matter to the Empire’s investigative agencies.

“Why not just believe and wait? They are generally reliable at dealing with tasks.”

“I know the Empire’s capabilities well, but given how they’ve been operating lately, my trust is waning…”

“Still, you should give them a chance. Who knows? They might uncover something you missed.”

Francesca, one of the lead authorities among the Magic Tower personnel, suggesting I trust the Empire’s Ministry was certainly intriguing, but as similar comments arose from the Cult’s side, I eventually decided to give them that chance.

“Veronica, just surrender the necromancer’s wrist to the Empire’s Ministry, what kind of nonsense is that?”

Veronica’s brusque tone came through from the receiver.

-‘Then what else can Colonel do apart from trusting the Ministry? Other than sitting there twiddling your thumbs, what can you do?’

“That’s not what I meant…”

-‘Just shut up and come to the Cathedral. I told you to rest, but you’re outside working again? Wait, when did you even sneak out? The knights at the main gate said they haven’t seen you leave.’

With both sides pushing me, it left me with little to no options.

-‘Come handle your treatment. Who knows what other weird thing might tie you down if you keep this up? Aren’t you afraid?’

Eventually, I had no choice but to hand over the necromancer’s wrist to the Imperial Ministry of Magic.

It might seem untrustworthy, but I had no other options right now, and this was my best course of action.

Thus, leaving behind the magicians in turmoil over the recent appearance of the necromancer, the clerics casting cautious glances, and the soldiers displaying uneasy dispositions as if they were carrying a ticking bomb…

I returned to the Cathedral of Saint Basil, where Lucia and Veronica awaited.

—

The Cathedral stood silent as if nothing occurred.

Believers came to pray, priests officiated the mass, monks tidied the grounds, while knights stood guard.

It appeared to be the same familiar scene, yet today, my steps up the stairs leading to the Cathedral felt unusually heavy.

“….”

After a slow ascent up the stairs, I opened the door to the Cathedral.

The priest standing near the door recognized me and greeted me warmly.

“Hello, Brother. Where have you been?”

“Oh, yes. Just handling some matters…”

“I see. Please come inside.”

With a smile, the priest gestured for me to enter.

“Saint Veronica is waiting for you.”

Taking a small breath while looking at the priest leading the way, I stepped forward.

With the white marble hallway before me.

As I stood on the path toward the slaughterhouse, I managed to calm my racing heart and proceeded with hesitant steps.