A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Magic Tower.

The cradle of magicians and the treasury of magic. Regardless of where they are born, their race, or their language, for those who walk the path of magic, the Magic Tower is both their home and sanctuary.

However, not everyone who treads the path of magic is a great figure.

There are those who commit crimes and are pursued by law enforcement,
Those caught in the act of drug trafficking,
Those who are expelled from the Magic Tower after their names are struck from the school’s roster for conducting experiments that go against humanity,
And necromancers who have crossed the line into forbidden territories, among others.

These are the shadows of magical society, the reefs, and the very essence of taboos.

They exist as tangible beings, yet they are individuals unrecognized by the Tower.

To describe it more accurately, the entire society chooses to turn a blind eye.

Perhaps that’s why, when the presence of a necromancer surfaced, the magicians of the Magic Tower chose silence.

—

Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician in History

Francesca was assigned to one of the best rooms in the Cathedral, as a companion to Saint Lucia.

Upon opening the brown wooden door, the scene inside came into view. A woman standing by the window, arms crossed, gazed outside.

She wore a delicately lined suit that embraced her elegantly feminine silhouette. The double-breasted suit that cinched at the waist resembled a splendid evening gown.

“Ha…”

Francesca, radiating her noble aura as usual, let out a weary sigh.

“Administrator.”

“…Ah, you’ve arrived?”

Francesca, who had been standing by the window, turned to face me.

Her purple hair, brushed to one side, swayed like the sails of a boat caressed by a gentle breeze, and a wispy smoke settled around her like morning fog.

The curves drawn by her slightly tilted body were alluring. As my gaze flowed down like a river, I noticed the pipe held in her leather-gloved hand.

I was about to enter when I leaned against the doorframe, poking my hands into my pockets.

“A smoker, are you?”

“It’s not tobacco; it’s magic herb.”

Francesca replied as she put the soapstone pipe to her mouth.

Like Sherlock Holmes, she exhaled billows of smoke, which didn’t bear the telltale smell of cigars.

A circular metal canister resting on her dark wooden desk was filled to the brim with leaves of a famous brand of magic herb, surrounded by tamper tools and small shards of magic herb that had yet to be cleared away.

I walked over to her and opened my mouth.

“I’m glad to find you here. Administrator, may I have a moment of your time?”

“May I first ask what brings you here, Colonel?”

“It’s about the magicians of the Magic Tower.”

“Oh, if it’s about that topic… I was about to come see you regarding that issue.”

Hoo. Francesca lightly exhaled the smoke, turning her head. Although it seemed she was avoiding my gaze, it was actually her way of concealing her true feelings.

The blue veins barely visible beneath her translucent skin and her furrowed brow betrayed her discomfort. It was as if merely recalling it was displeasing to her. The coldness in her turned-away gaze and the displeasure etched on her face made it very clear.

“You came to ask about the rejection of the support request, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

After closely examining the severed limb of the necromancer, the Imperial Ministry of Magic concluded that a necromancer was operating in the Northern Regions.

The sudden emergence of undead, the Corpse Spider and giant spider that attacked the rift, the disappearance of hundreds of families, the murder of Imperial Army Combat Magicians and Magic Department Investigators, and the battles fought beneath the major cities of the North.

Upon receiving the Ministry of Magic’s inspection report, the Imperial government concluded that the cause behind the incidents of the past month involved a necromancer and demons. The Chancellor sent a letter to the National Affairs Council of the Cult, as well as letters to nations involved in the conflict with the demons.

For reference, the Government of Abas has also received the Imperial government’s correspondence.

After reading the Chancellor’s letter, the Prime Minister prepared a statement of commitment to cooperate in all investigations conducted jointly by the Empire and the Cult immediately after the government meeting. Once the speechwriters polish it up a bit, it will soon become official.

Needless to say, the reactions from the pro-Empire autocratic states or the Cult need not even be mentioned.

The dictators flailed their rattles at the Emperor energetically, and the soon-to-be-deposed Pope was eager to achieve the marvelous feat of “demon subjugation” for his successor, Raphael.

Of course, from the Pope’s perspective, who despised magicians more than anyone else, even if his resignation was imminent, a necromancer who had made a pact with demons could never be allowed to live. In any case.

The information I received while listening to Veronica, who was grappling with the fundamentalists and hardliners within the Cult, is reliable.

At that time, Veronica clearly stated:

“The Magic Tower… sniff… if a necromancer emerges and the Tower remains silent… there will surely be further revelations…”

“You mean something has to be done?”

“Yes… A letter has also been sent to the Oracle from the Empire… I’ve signaled to my sister…”

According to what she heard from the imperial officials, the Saint claimed that the Oracle also received a letter from Chancellor Stollipin. A letter requesting cooperation to capture the necromancer and demons.

What’s more, Veronica even went so far as to persuade Francesca by leveraging their personal friendship.

If she and Evangelos, the commander of the Magic Battalion, and a member of the Ranieri family, issued a statement of counsel to the Oracle, the Oracle’s committee members wouldn’t remain idle. As descendants of the Archmage, their opinions on internal and military affairs would surely be heeded by the haughty Oracle.

However, even now, as all the governments have stated their positions, the Magic Tower remains silent, offering no replies at all.

“To be precise, I came to find the Administrator for answers that have yet to be heard.”

“Hah….”

Francesca’s hand wove through her hair. Her slender fingers tangled in the sumptuous locks.

Although she had shown signs of nobility until now, having fallen from grace, she now appeared quite different. The widow’s peak dark circles under her eyes revealed her harried state as a civil servant in the Magic Tower.

“I did send a letter to the Oracle as requested, but aside from hearing that discussions are heated internally, I haven’t received any further updates.”

“They’re discussing it internally?”

What discussions could possibly arise concerning a necromancer?

As I asked, Francesca sighed heavily.

“There are many reasons. The magicians operating in the North are worried that the Inquisition might classify them as heretics too. Those folks have a notoriously bad reputation, you know? They recently had battles in the major cities.”

“I know. That’s why they swarmed here like a horde of bees the next day.”

“Hmm. You remembered that, did you?”

Francesca, pipe in mouth, smiled faintly. The combination of her luxurious leather gloves, the soapstone pipe, and the suit that elegantly preserved her feminine curves was nothing short of fantastic.

“While I’m trying to resolve the people’s concerns in my own way, Sir Evangelos on the front lines is also helping to calm them down. However, dealing with the Magic Tower seems a bit more challenging. They’re worried about entirely different issues.”

“What issues are you referring to?”

“What do you think? They fear that the prestige of their renowned school might be tarnished.”

She explained to me that there are fierce debates not only among the Oracle but also among government officials within the Tower.

A necromancer had appeared for the first time in decades. One who kidnaps people for experimentation, causing mass casualties in collusion with cultists.

Operating under martial law, facing charges of creating undead, kidnapping, murder, and terrorism, and even having made a pact with a demon. All these accusations are known widely. Even aside from those charges, the mere speculation that magicians have been murdered by a necromancer is problematic.

Most necromancers are former magicians who defected from the Magic Tower or Ivory Tower.

For the Magic Tower, this situation is indeed quite troubling.

The act of slaying a fellow magician, a compatriot by blood born of the same sorcery, is a grave sin. During a time of war with the Cult, a tradition unique to the Tower was born after instances arose where a defector plunged a dagger into the back of their comrades.

Thus, for over a century, the act of one magician killing another is not merely a crime that ends in expulsion from the Tower.

With a crooked smile, Francesca emitted a puff of smoke from the soapstone pipe.

“I can’t specify the identity as we haven’t secured any corpses yet. But once it becomes clear which school they belong to, it will cause quite a stir. Hence, everyone is biding their time, holding their breath.”

“Are they afraid that a necromancer has emerged from their own school, so they’re afraid to act recklessly?”

“Exactly.”

A pale smoke surrounded her face. In the thickening haze, Francesca held her pipe with her gloved hand, crossing her arms.

“Even apart from that, if I stick my neck out and a necromancer emerges from a significant school, that would be an issue. Someone will be inclined to seek revenge against the school that attacked them.”

“…Revenge.”

“Yes. Revenge. Once things settle down and fade from people’s memories, that’s when the conflicts between schools will begin.”

Given that magicians place the preservation and inheritance of knowledge above their lives, there are individuals who find the honor of their school more important than their lives.

Thus, when senior officials or promising members of a school get embroiled in altercations with members of another school, if there’s a significant difference in the power levels of the schools, it is not uncommon for them to seek revenge, as Francesca noted.

“Especially when it comes to incidents like this where a magician has been murdered, a smaller school could face existential risks. There’s already been instances where schools have been disbanded or absorbed into others for similar reasons. So, everyone is just waiting in the wings.”

I raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Even when someone has died?”

“There are those who believe that sometimes values more important than life exist. Noble beliefs, values, honor… It’s selfish and despicable behavior, but not every moment in the world is beautiful, right?”

“What remarkable scholars we have here.”

Francesca showed no reaction to my sardonic remarks. She simply smiled as if it amused her, settled into a plush chair, and continued puffing on her soapstone pipe.

As a faint ember flickered to life, her lips parted. A languid voice flowed smoothly between her lips.

“By the way, I’ve sent someone to the Magic Tower to bring news from the Oracle. Sir Martinez will be back with updates soon; I’ll meet with him and gather the details.”

“When will you meet?”

“Today. If there’s something new, I can pass it on to the Colonel, right?”

“I would appreciate that.”

“Oh, but will you be recording this again? We’re supposed to meet at the Cathedral, but… well, this place is, um…”

She was implying whether it was possible to listen in, given it’s where the Inquisition is stationed.

“Don’t worry. I have it all figured out.”

Just before stepping out, I peeked my head around to Francesca, who was crossing her legs, smoking the magic herb.

“I’ll grab some equipment, so could you wait a moment?”

“Of course.”

—

When I returned to Francesca with the equipment, she was tidying up her desk.

“I’m back.”

After placing the bag on the desk, I unlocked it. Inside the thick leather was an assortment of surveillance and listening devices produced by the Military Intelligence Agency’s R&D department.

I pulled out a few useful items and secured them onto an appropriately-sized band.

“Administrator.”

Francesca, who had been wandering near the desk, turned her gaze.

As she cleaned the dampness and ashes from the pipe’s rim and stem, removing the heat from the interior, she organized the pipe into a roll pouch and approached me.

“Did you find what you were looking for, Colonel?”

“It’ll take some time to attach the listening device and test it, so let’s prepare in advance.”

“Alright. How can I assist you?”

“Firstly, please take off your pants.”