A Dark Fantasy Spy

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“The magicians are agitated.”

Juan Pablo Martinez’s voice dropped low. Known for his stoicism even within the Secretariat’s main office, today the atmosphere was colder than ever.

Understandably so, as people had been flocking to him since dawn to pester him.

“I’ve heard the news. People went to protest at the school again today. Was the one who came… from the School of Sorcery?”

“Indeed, Sir Raniere.”

It’s already been several days since the Inquisition’s forces began ransacking the areas where the magicians were staying.

The great archmage, respected by anyone whose name appears on the Magic Tower’s roster, had granted permission for this.

And now, there’s even the emergence of a necromancer.

With the Inquisition and the Imperial Ministry of Magic, who have been hunting mysteries and suppressing magic for thousands of years, keeping a watchful eye, it’s no surprise that the magicians are in a state of anxiety.

So, it was only natural for the magicians of the Magic Tower to voice their concerns and worries to Juan Pablo Martinez. After all, a civil servant is meant to resolve the grievances of tax-paying citizens, and the same goes for the Magic Tower.

However, what was odd was that it was not him, the one with the highest rank among the Secretariat’s personnel dispatched to the North, but rather Martinez, the nominal head, whom they flocked to for complaints.

It was quite something to raise their voices to someone from a family with no notable history, who just so happens to be a descendant of the archmage they reverence.

To Francesca’s eyes, it was nothing short of humorous.

Thus, with a smile almost bordering on a sneer, she offered some comforting words.

“You sure are going through a lot.”

“Receiving complaints from the schools is something I’ve always done, so you needn’t worry.”

“But?”

“The atmosphere is quite unsettling.”

Martinez began his report in a calm tone. His voice carried no joy, despair, exhaustion, or anxiety.

“I confirmed that the executives from the school have sent a letter to the Magic Tower. As for a recap by the Imperial Ministry concerning the body discovered, along with proof that a necromancer is indeed active in the North, they seem poised to request an inspection of said evidence.”

“An official complaint?”

“It’s not an officially sanctioned issue. The schools and even the Oracle have yet to determine their stance.”

If one were to express that voice melodically, it might sound like music hammering out the same notes at equal intervals.

Francesca absentmindedly nodded at that thought, then shot back without much contemplation.

“Then we don’t need to worry.”

“However…”

“With the three major schools and the Oracle yet to make a statement, is there really a need for the Secretariat to jump in first?”

“The magicians are in a state of anxiety, are they not?”

Martinez, hands neatly clasped together, stated.

“The identity of the murderer who killed the magicians remains shrouded in mystery. The Inquisition is scouring the North, and the Empire is standing idly by. And now, there are bodies presumed to be that of a necromancer among the evidence. Coincidentally, both pieces of evidence were uncovered by the Inquisition.”

“…”

“Today, the people from the School of Sorcery asked me where the Mother of the Founding, the great archmage, is at this very moment.”

“And?”

“I simply answered truthfully that even the Secretariat has lost track of the Duke’s whereabouts.”

Martinez released his clasped hands and spread his arms wide, as if to convey there was nothing he was hiding.

“At that point, the senior members of the school said this: Perhaps the Duke has turned away from the Magic Tower—”

“That’s enough.”

At Francesca’s cold voice, Martinez fell silent.

“What nonsense. Ignore it, Sir Martinez. The Secretariat is far too busy to concern itself with such complaints.”

“Yes, I merely conveyed the facts. But please, know this.”

“…”

“If the Duke is absent and we cannot await orders from the Oracle, then we magicians must place our complete trust and reliance on you, Sir Raniere, and Sir Risidike.”

“I understand what you’re saying, so you may leave now.”

“Of course. Please take care, Sir Raniere.”

Martinez bowed politely and exited the office.

Looking at him leave, Francesca placed her hand on her throbbing temple. Letting out a small groan, she retrieved the phone from one corner of her desk.

After a brief moment of a ringing tone.

A familiar voice came through the line.

-“Ah~ our dear little sister. What’s the occasion for your call?”

“I’d like to meet up for a bit.”

Francesca added, with a hint of eagerness.

“Sister Veronica.”