A Dark Fantasy Spy

---

When dawn approaches the dark sky, my heavy eyelids naturally lift.

Clack, clack.

Sitting on the outdoor terrace, I drop sugar cubes into the coffee provided by the hotel. The sky, tinted brown, has its own charm.

Swoosh! The sea water rushes onto the beach. The white foamy waves bubble, carrying away all traces left on the sand from the night before.

The bitterness of the coffee is not masked by the sweet sugar. A warm sip of coffee lingers in my mouth, only leaving a gritty feeling behind.

I set down the coffee cup and slip a cigarette between my fingers. Just then, a familiar voice reaches my ears.

“You’re up early.”

It was Francesca. She appeared on the terrace of the adjacent room, wrapped in a white robe.

Had she just finished bathing? The ends of her hair were still damp, and her fair skin stood out against the dim sky.

As she tightened her robe and took in the view around her, she casually spoke in her usual tone.

“Couldn’t you sleep a bit longer?”

I glanced at her and pulled out a lighter.

“Were you upset?”

“Of course not.”

She chuckled softly as she flicked the lighter on.

The spark from the flint hit the oil-soaked wick, turning into a small flame. As I drew the fire closer, I stuffed the now warm lighter into my pocket and exhaled a cloud of smoke filled with the day’s weight.

“I got enough sleep. What time do we leave?”

“You’ll meet the professor in the afternoon for a brief meal and greetings. He’s busy and can’t spare too much time. I called him yesterday from the Magic Tower.”

Ah, I see.

I nodded and acknowledged her.

“I’ll call a vehicle to match the time.”

Francesca turned to head back to her room.

Once she left, silence returned to the spot. The only sound was the waves crashing on the shore in this barely trafficked area.

I took a sip of lukewarm coffee as I admired the ocean view that the staff proudly described.

The waves crashing and the white foam rising.

A stunning white-sand beach, untouched by footprints.

In front of such picturesque scenery, I set down my coffee and put a cigarette between my lips.

“…Hmph.”

It was a beautiful view that was worth every penny of the expensive accommodation.

Being free made it twice as beautiful.

—

Episode 13 – There’s No Country for Magicians

—

Pushed into this overseas trip, I found myself on the second day. I found out about my entry visa only on the day of vacation, so this trip was essentially aimless and spontaneous.

But now, I finally had plans.

“What is on the agenda for today?”

“We’ll have a light meal with the professor and greet him. He’s a busy man, so we can’t take up too much of his time. He sent me an invitation, so after our meal, we’ll attend the lecture and then return to the hotel.”

As I pulled out my suit, I asked Francesca.

“Who will be attending this special lecture?”

“The university president, professors who are on break, officials from the Patalia Magic Department, and members of the academic society, I suppose. He’s quite well-known, so there might be more.”

“Sounds good.”

We headed down to the first floor and jumped into the taxi that had already been reserved through the hotel.

“Signore e signori, where to?”

“Gallbria Municipal University.”

Our destination was Gallbria Municipal University, the venue for the special lecture by the professor who gifted Francesca with elixir.

It took about twenty minutes by car from the Meraviglia Hotel to the university. The driver skillfully navigated through Gallbria’s roads and crossed the large bridge over the sea and dropped us off near the campus.

There, we encountered an elderly professor known as a prominent scholar of the Ivory Tower.

“How have you been, professor?”

“Oh! Who do we have here? Is that you, Miss Ranieri?”

Francesca and the old professor exchanged greetings with ease.

She donned a cape, a symbol of a magician, and bowed to the professor, while he placed his right hand over his heart and inclined his head.

“May peace dwell with the descendants of the great prophet and his companions.”

The old professor, with a kind smile, affirmed.

“I am Niazi from the Ivory Tower. I’ve been waiting for you.”

—

Niazi bin Mukhtar al-Khamara. The name of the old professor who introduced himself as ‘Niazi’.

It’s evident that he borrowed elements from reality, and considering his birthplace inspired by the Mauritania Continent, he taught students at a prestigious university reminiscent of those in the Middle East.

Recalling my time working in the Middle East, I pieced together the usual naming conventions among Arab people. ‘Bin Mukhtar’ means ‘son of Mukhtar’, indicating that the old professor’s father’s name is Mukhtar.

Since his background is Middle Eastern, the ‘al’ in ‘al-Khamara’ signifies the definite article ‘ال’ in Arabic, which means he belongs to the Khamar family by convention.

So, Professor Niazi is a member of the Khamar family with Mukhtar as his father.

With a benevolent smile still on his face, the professor pointed toward me with polite gestures.

“By the way, who is this gentleman?”

I greeted him following the customs of the Mauritania Continent.

“May peace rest upon the student from the Prophet’s temple. I am Colonel Frederick Nostrim, a colleague of Miss Ranieri.”

The Prophet’s temple is how the alchemists of the red desert refer to the Ivory Tower. The creator of the Ivory Tower, Suleiman, was a great archmage from the Mauritania Continent who played a significant role in the war against the cult.

Whereas most of the continent recognizes those who significantly contributed during that period as archmages, the people of Mauritania do not refer to Suleiman as an archmage at all. Instead, they often use titles like ‘Prophet Suleiman’ or ‘Seer Suleiman’.

The reason is straightforward.

Suleiman himself was a devoted priest of Al-Yabd.

Born to a priestly family in the Mauritania Continent, Suleiman had remarkable magical talent and deep faith, recognized as the divine seer in the lands ruled by his family.

Upon hearing the news, the Inquisition sent an expeditionary force and waged war against Suleiman’s family, leading to numerous casualties.

This war eventually became known as the precursor to the Ivory Tower Independence War, termed the ‘Sarax War’.

Enraged by his burned family, Suleiman sought out a great religious figure and one of the seventeen archmages known as ‘the Priest’, using this event as a means to unveil the mysteries of magic to the world.

The subsequent events are well-known historical facts.

The uprising of the magicians led to war against the cult, and after a long struggle, they established the Ivory Tower. Suleiman returned from the war to find his burned territory and erected a tower, naming it the ‘Ivory Tower’. For thousands of years, the nations of the Mauritania Continent, which have politically and religiously opposed the cult, hailed Suleiman as a great prophet who had victoriously returned from war against the heretics.

Thus, the Ivory Tower is not just a gathering place for the magicians of the Mauritania Continent but a massive temple where religion and magic intertwine.

Another name for the Ivory Tower is ‘The Prophet’s Temple’.

Even someone who has studied history or aced world history exams might have heard of this legend once. However, unaware of the pride the Mauritania Continent people hold for the Ivory Tower, most others across the continent show little interest in it.

Perhaps for this reason, Professor Niazi appeared somewhat moved. With a bright smile on his face, he extended his hand for a handshake.

“Oh… Not many know that expression. You must know it well.”

“It’s not a boast-worthy piece of knowledge.”

“Frederick Nostrim, huh? I thought I’d heard that name somewhere before, but I didn’t realize you’d be such a kind person.”

Training newcomers in the information agency to win over people isn’t overly complicated.

Just mind the etiquette suited for the cultural context, and know the common tongue of the area, and you’ve already got half of it! Just like how elders in Korea appreciate foreigners who can speak the language well and bow respectfully.

“I’ve heard Miss Francesca is sharing some tales with you. Shall I step aside?”

“While I appreciate the thought, the stories of the young are always a joy for the old. Carrying around a frail body more and more as I wander the world is tiring, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to share this moment with you, if it’s alright.”

“Feel free to do as you please.”

—

Dining with the professor wasn’t too bad.

Just the fact that he didn’t pry at me for information like some foreign diplomat, foreign agency agent, or journalist already made me feel positively about him.

Innocent like a naive scholar, Professor Niazi began a depth-filled conversation about alchemy with Francesca. Being from the humanities, I could hardly keep up with the topic, so I turned on a recorder and blankly chewed on my food.

He seemed pleased with the restaurant recommended by the staff at the Abas embassy in Patalia.

After finishing our early lunch at the restaurant, we headed toward the university where the special lecture was taking place.

As Francesca expected, the venue for the special lecture was packed with people even before it began. With both the national flag of the Republic of Patalia and their own flags displayed on the black sedans parked outside, it seemed foreign ambassadors had also come to the lecture.

I muttered as I surveyed the outside of the lecture hall.

“Diplomats, civil servants, scholars, and even students… The professor’s reputation is truly impressive.”

“The Khamar family is one of the powers leading the Ivory Tower, after all. I suppose you didn’t know that.”

“I know almost nothing about the Mauritania Continent. I’ve never worked that way to begin with.”

Since the Mauritania region wasn’t under my jurisdiction, I lacked information about it. Compared to Francesca, who had frequently traveled to the Ivory Tower, and Veronica, who had engaged in missionary and diplomatic activities there during childhood, my knowledge felt shamefully lacking.

The inside of the building was filled to the brim with magical undergraduates eager to attend the lecture, along with people from various academic societies, organizations, agencies, corporations, and research institutes.

“…Isn’t that the president of Recolmarti? That famous pharmaceutical company.”

“That’s right. The person next to him is the CEO of Clercops. They developed a potion named after ‘Elixir’, the elixir well-known since the Independence War. One of the leading companies in Patalia’s magical pharmaceutical sector.”

“I know. They supply potions to the Patalia military.”

It felt like everyone related to ‘alchemy’ in Patalia was gathered in one place. The president of a pharmaceutical company, a defense industry CEO, a foreign ambassador with twenty years of experience, notable scholars from academia…

Francesca, a high-ranking official from the Magic Tower Secretariat, assessed the attendees with a calm tone.

“It’s no surprise. With someone like Professor Niazi, it wouldn’t be strange to see people coming from other countries. Who wouldn’t want to see the master of alchemy and a power figure of the Ivory Tower?”

“…True, I suppose anyone would want to be here.”

Certainly, spies would be ecstatic to join with so many crumbs of information floating around.

Sure enough, several soldiers in military uniforms were strolling about in the lecture hall. There were officers of the Patalia Ministry of Defense, as well as foreign diplomats dressed impeccably in suits. While the Patalia side seemed ambiguous, some of the attending diplomats were clearly agents from the intelligence unit.

As I was scanning the attendees, they began whispering amongst themselves, seemingly puzzled by my presence there.

When I noticed a few of them staring at me with tense expressions, I instinctively sensed danger and grabbed some snacks laid out in the lecture hall.

While all this unfolded, Francesca approached the crowd of attendees and greeted someone.

“It’s been a while. Hope you’ve been well, chairman?”

“Ah, Miss Francesca! What a delight to see you! The last time we met was at the international conference held at the Magic Tower; I can’t believe how much time has passed since then.”

“I’m glad to see you too. I came to say hello to Professor Niazi; I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

“Do you know Professor Niazi?”

“I saw him a few times when I visited the Ivory Tower. I was invited by him to come here.”

She only greeted one person. As attendees recognized Francesca, they approached her to extend greetings, and she welcomed them with a smile.

As a civil servant from the Secretariat and a descendant of an archmage, as well as a hero’s companion, she was already well-integrated into this magical society. Of course, not everyone was pleased with her arrival.

A few suit-clad individuals chatting in the back began whispering as they recognized Francesca.

“Isn’t that Francesca Ranieri?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I wonder why she’s here? Wasn’t she in the Empire?”

“I heard she received an invitation from Professor Niazi. Let’s call the international cooperation officer.”

It seemed these suited individuals were some kind of civil servants. More precisely, they appeared to be from the Patalia Magic Department. Given that the special lecture was being held in Patalia, it wasn’t peculiar for employees from their Magic Department to attend.

The issue was that it wasn’t just magic department employees present.

A Ministry of Defense official, who had been chatting with diplomats, turned to eye Francesca. An unusually sharp-dressed civil servant nearby, laughing with a foreign journalist, also surveyed her.

I recognized that those individuals were most likely affiliated with the National Security Agency. Unlike other civil servants who regarded her with mixed expressions, their faces bore a hint of apprehension.

At that moment, I noticed someone similar standing next to me.

“Merlo.”

“Sophia.”

The National Security Agency’s information officer, Sophia, now appeared within the lecture hall, calmly holding a cup of coffee as she came beside me.

Perhaps aware of the surrounding attention, she sipped her coffee while avoiding eye contact. I also turned my gaze toward the other attendees.

Sophia addressed me.

“I heard through the branch that Francesca appeared in Gallbria. I didn’t expect you’d be moving together.”

“It just sort of happened.”

It seemed that their organization was genuinely considering Francesca a threat. Sophia had been keeping a close watch on Francesca, likely never leaving her side.

I opened my mobile phone and pretended to type a message.

“Just to check, did you surveil the hotel too?”

The answer came swiftly.

“Yeah.”

“…….”

The implication that they had been surveilling the hotel suggested that they were monitoring Francesca’s room. It likely meant they were tapping in.

However, no one could precisely tell whether the National Security Agency was only monitoring Francesca’s room or if they had unwittingly observed my adjacent room as well. Only Sophia would know for sure.

Reading my internal thoughts, Sophia smirked and assured me there was nothing to worry about.

“I only marked Francesca. I promise.”

“Right. They probably won’t care about my room next door.”

“Besides, you didn’t have any calls yesterday, did you?”

“There was no need.”

It was inconceivable for the National Security Agency to be fully aware of the facts of my entrance and for me to start calling at this moment. Making a phone call while in a situation lacking security wasn’t something an intelligence agent abroad would do.

Even though I wasn’t in Patalia for business, the National Security Agency wouldn’t care about my visit’s purpose. All that mattered was my status as a foreign intelligence officer. Only that mattered to them.

Realizing I was being watched by the allied country’s intelligence agency didn’t particularly anger me. Listening to the eavesdropping methods of the Abas government wasn’t new. It was like how the U.S. eavesdrops on allied governments.

As she sipped her coffee, Sophia observed Francesca, who was weaving through the crowd.

For a moment, she silently gazed at Francesca before quietly setting down her disposable cup and turned to exchange a brief glance with me.

“Stay as far away as you can.”

“…….”

“There’s no use keeping someone like that close. You get what I mean?”

I nodded and replied.

“I’ll heed the advice.”

“I’m just worried.”

“Same difference.”

Sophia smiled slightly and passed by me, moving towards the exit of the lecture hall. An in-ear device was securely tucked in her ear.

Tracking the cord concealed within her clothes must lead to somewhere, possibly intertwining with the radio she would use to communicate with her fellow National Security agents.

I stood still for a moment, watching as she disappeared from sight.

People presumed to be agents from the National Security Agency gradually left the lecture hall. Among the crowd was a somewhat flustered junior officer, likely the very same official at the immigration inspection.

“…Sigh.”

I sighed deeply and tossed Sophia’s used disposable cup into the trash.

Sticking my hands into my pockets, I trudged toward Francesca.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin shortly,” the staff from Gallbria Municipal University announced. “Please take your seats!”

Not long after, Professor Niazi’s special lecture commenced.

And successfully concluded.

—

On the way back to the hotel, the taxi I had randomly chosen was quiet.

The driver focused solely on the road ahead, maintaining a business-like demeanor as the radio was off, letting the sound of vehicles racing down the dark road resound clearly.

As I stared out the window, I turned my head to Francesca.

“Shall we change hotels?”

Francesca replied.

“Aren’t you pleased with the hotel?”

“Uh, it’s not that.”

“Then why do you say that?”

I looked at the back of the driver, who was intently focused on the road, seemingly unaware of our conversation.

As I pondered for a moment while gazing at him, I cautiously tapped my earlobe with a finger.

Seeing that signal, Francesca pondered for a moment, then turned her gaze back to the scenery outside the window.

“…….”

Francesca’s reflection in the window looked rather tired.

The reason she appeared fatigued was not solely due to meeting numerous people during today’s lecture.

“Do as you like. I only intended to stay for one night anyway.”

“Oh, right! It was a walk-in!”

“Yep.”

Having rushed over the moment she heard news of the professor, she hadn’t prepared anything. She even asked me to guide her to a hotel because she hadn’t booked a place.

Yet even if she had made a proper reservation, it was uncertain whether she could truly rest at that hotel, given the predicament surrounding the National Security Agency.

Francesca maintained her silence, staring out the window, while I looked out the opposing window, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“I do have one.”

“Where is it?”

“My villa.”

A villa?

“You own a villa?”

“Yeah.”

“…….”

What? A villa in a resort city?

“If it’s a villa in Gallbria, it must be quite expensive.”

“I’m not exactly low on funds, you know.”

“Aren’t you just a civil servant?”

“What do you mean by that? You know it too, Colonel.”

Trying to comprehend her statement, it suddenly dawned on me that Francesca wasn’t just an ordinary government worker.

She was in charge of managing the slush funds of the Oracle of the Magic Tower at the Economic Management Department of the Secretariat, and she had garnered a significant sum in the process. On top of that, her ‘side jobs’ provided her with additional income, which meant Francesca wasn’t like me, merely living off a salary.

Suddenly, her impassive face staring out of the window seemed to overlap with that of a mafia character from some movie—something from “The Godfather” or “Scarface,” perhaps. She resembled a bourgeoisie living comfortably off illegal earnings.

If that was the case, then why had she asked me for a hotel recommendation? She could simply stay at her villa!

Staring in disbelief, I unconsciously shot a question at her.

“Why are you staying in a hotel when you have a villa?”

“It’s been empty for a long time. It would take time to clean it up.”

“Ah….”

I nodded, finally understanding. After all, there was no need to maintain a place that she rarely used while she hardly visited Patalia.

Though I was curious why she had even purchased a villa she hardly used, I had no intention of probing further. I had a strong premonition that whatever her answer might be wouldn’t come off too positively.

Hence, I changed the subject.

This time, to work.

“You said you have something to tell me. Can I ask what it is?”

“Not right now. I’ll tell you later.”

There was no need to ask why. We were currently in a taxi, and the person listening was sitting right in front of us.

“In that case, I’ll arrange the meeting.”

The yellow taxi raced through the noon city. It sped across the large bridge standing tall above the sea before swiftly entering the labyrinthine city, finally dropping us off in front of the hotel.

I pulled out her suitcase from the trunk. After I paid the fare and stepped out of the taxi, I tossed a question at Francesca.

“Looks like you’ll be stuck in this hotel for a while.”

“I suppose so. Changing hotels is something I’ll have to think more about.”

“That makes sense. By the way, is there anything left on your agenda?”

“Well….”

Francesca dragged her suitcase and trailed off in thought.

While the front desk was preparing her room and the bellboy moved her luggage, Francesca contemplated her schedule until the moment we stepped into the elevator heading up to her room.

Finally, as the elevator doors opened and we stepped into the carpeted hallway, the tightly sealed lips of Francesca slowly began to part.

“I don’t have any work to take care of, nor any appointments scheduled. It would be nice to return to the Magic Tower and be with the hero, but….”

She trailed her thoughts for a moment before adding.

“For now, I’d like to stay with you, Colonel….”

Then it happened. The doorbell rang.

The silent hallway was suddenly filled with the ringing sound just for a moment. Francesca, pausing her speech, rummaged her hand into her pocket to pull out her mobile phone.

“What call is that?”

“I don’t recognize the number. It’s not saved.”

“Then don’t answer it. There’s no good that can come from picking up calls from unknown numbers.”

“But this… It seems to be a call from the Secretariat.”

Francesca was convinced that the number displayed on her screen was from the Secretariat. When I asked how she was so sure, she answered.

“The agency’s work phone numbers all share consistent last digits. This number has the same last digits as my work phone.”

“Then it might be an important call. You should pick it up.”

While she answered the call, I used the key provided by the front desk to unlock my room first. I flipped the lights on before heading into my room to retrieve surveillance and camera detection equipment.

Carrying an armful of gadgets, I stepped back into the hallway, where I found Francesca in the midst of her phone call, looking somewhat conflicted.

“…Alright. Don’t cry. I’ll get there soon.”

-‘…….’

“Could you give me the address? I’ll head over right away. Yes, please wait for me.”

I approached her after she ended the call.

“What call was that?”

“It was from a staff member at the Secretariat.”

“That didn’t sound good at all. Is there a problem?”

Francesca shook her head with a strange expression. It did imply there was a problem.

Returning to my room to tuck the equipment safely away, I locked the door and emerged back into the hallway.

“Wherever it is, let’s go. Please tell me what’s going on on our way there.”

“I’m not exactly sure myself. They were sobbing while on the phone, so it was hard to catch what they were saying. But…”

“But what?”

“The person who called. It’s someone you also know.”

Someone I know? An employee of the Secretariat?

I cocked my head in puzzlement—how many staff did I know, counting Francesca, maybe just two?

“Is it Martinez?”

“No, it’s not that Martinez. It’s Gabi Schneider.”

“Gabi Schneider? Hmm… I’ve never heard the name before.”

“You must know her since she’s someone you have dealt with before.”

Francesca added with an unclear expression.

“She’s the one you asked to look into, the one on the list of secretariat employees you received.”

The mention of the list of employees brought back a memory.

During the northern dispatch, I had investigated the secretariat staff under Leonie’s orders.

As that memory surfaced, I turned my attention back to Francesca.

“Is she currently in Patalia?”

“Yes.”

Francesca nodded.

“I can’t recall the exact details, but Gabi Schneider was sobbing as she made a request.”

“What kind of request?”

“She wants us to find Jean Marbo.”

The civil servant of the Magic Tower Secretariat added.

“She is requesting the search for a missing Secretariat employee.”