A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Happy times are short-lived, but their echoes linger on forever.

The relationship continued until the moment Francesca collapsed from exhaustion, stretching into the dawn.

Only when the rain that had fallen without warning gradually diminished and the brilliant sunlight bathed the dewy path during a late morning, was I finally able to open my heavy eyelids and rise.

The traces of the previous night, which had passed like a storm, remained scattered throughout the bedroom.

A towel that had fallen on the floor, a damp comforter and sheets, and crimson handprints on pristine white skin.

Francesca, looking at me with sleepy eyes, was leaning against my shoulder, blinking her violet irises with a tired expression.

“Are you awake?”

“…Yes.”

A cracked voice escaped from my parched lips. Francesca’s throat was barely able to make any sound.

Well, after yelling so much yesterday, how could her throat be okay? I grabbed a water bottle nearby to moisten her throat.

Perhaps because the pain had subsided, Francesca slowly closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. Her soft breathing tickled my chest, and as I watched her, I pulled up the disheveled blanket to cover her body.

It was a rare day off, so a few days of rest wouldn’t hurt. For both her and me.

Embracing Francesca and feeling the silky texture against my skin, I soon closed my eyes and fell asleep.

It was one of those sunny days.

—

Episode 13 – A Country for Magicians Doesn’t Exist

The calm morning had completely passed. The sun had risen high, illuminating the world.

The aftershocks of the intense previous night refused to dissipate, even as I attempted a long nap.

From the moment I woke up, I was frowning at the tingling pain coursing through my thighs and back.

“Ugh….”

My body felt as if it had been beaten black and blue.

Every part of me ached, protesting through sharp pains about what on earth I had done last night.

However, since there was someone in worse shape than me, I had to take care of her instead.

“Are you okay, Francesca?”

“Don’t worry about me….”

Despite her words, Francesca looked pretty bad off.

As she wobbled on unsteady legs and swayed, she resembled nothing more than a newborn fawn rather than a person.

With such a drastic shift from her usual self, I had to support her as she moved with her weak body.

After just getting out of bed, Francesca was acting like a seriously ill patient.

I silently watched her and chuckled softly.

“Guess even a potion won’t make last night’s activities any easier, huh?”

“…Please be quiet, Colonel.”

She seemed determined not to lose a single word, but her wrecked body couldn’t fight against the tipping scales of her condition.

In the end, Francesca spent the entire day in bed, trembling and needing care. With no one else in the villa besides the owner, it naturally fell to me to nurse her. I had lost the precious day of my vacation, but that didn’t matter much. It was more important for Francesca to regain her strength.

But from the moment the next dawn broke, I realized something was wrong.

—

“Step forward with your right foot and align your left foot with your right heel.”

The ankle twists and angles align. My foot, now at a perfect 90 degrees, found its balance, but I lost my center of gravity.

“March.”

I stepped forward with my right foot. As the gap widened, my left foot followed suit, tracking the path of my right.

“Pass.”

This time, the left foot advanced first.

As I moved diagonally, stealthily, like silencing the noise of my steps to assassinate a target, my heel dropped first. My right foot stepped forward while my left foot adjusted its angle slightly.

“Let’s move sideways. Left, then to the right.”

Following Francesca’s signals, I shifted my steps. First, to the left, then to the right.

“Hmm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Your stance is a complete mess.”

Francesca, standing in the field behind the villa, assessed me with a displeased expression.

“The gap between your feet is either too narrow or too wide, and your center of gravity is off, making your upper body unstable. And since your upper body is swaying, your lower body will sway too, resulting in a total imbalance.”

Her strangely sharp critique was laced with emotion.

Continuing with a tone that suggested I was hopeless, Francesca offered to show me how to correct my stance and drew her sword.

The elegantly curved blade glimmered in the sunlight. The bent tip contrasted with the straight edge slicing through the air.

“The most important thing in using a cavalry sword is footwork. To practice the skills, you must first master the footwork to wield it correctly.”

Watch and learn.

With a light grasp of her cavalry sword, Francesca demonstrated. Advancing, moving sideways, retreating, dodging, and other various stances. Her footwork was textbook perfect.

After the footwork, she taught me a few stances, attacks, and defenses.

“Block this.”

The cavalry sword swung down from above. I raised my cavalry sword and parried Francesca’s attack.

Though my defensive posture was precise, there was no praise in return.

As I lifted the sword again to block another descending blade, Francesca twisted her wrist, changing direction.

Giving it a recoil, her blade retreated in an instant, and she swung her cavalry sword horizontally using the kinetic energy obtained from my swing.

The retracted sword, in the blink of an eye, turned to position itself right in front of my upper body.

In a real combat situation, that sword would have effortlessly sliced through my unprotected chest, yet it returned without so much as a scratch.

“When the stance is read, it turns out like this. It’s true that defense has the upper hand over attack, but you must be vigilant to respond to sudden attacks.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Let’s try again.”

On the southern coast of Patalia, famous for its sunny weather, I practiced swordplay with Francesca against the picturesque cliffs with red roofs as the backdrop.

The cavalry sword training we were currently practicing was the result of Francesca’s suggestion for a lesson. The moment the dawn broke, she appeared in sparring gear resembling a fencing costume, unexpectedly demanding to train me in swordsmanship.

And this is the outcome.

“…Ugh!”

The dull sensation from my wrist snapped me to attention.

Having attempted to block a quick attack while launching my own, I was hit by the cavalry sword that Francesca swung with force, causing me to recoil.

With concern in her voice, Francesca spoke as she broke off the clash.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes… I’m fine.”

“What about your injuries?”

“Don’t worry. It was well blocked.”

I knocked on my thick wrist guard while speaking.

Despite thinking I was used to physical activities, sparring with Francesca was anything but easy.

Just when I thought I’d managed to block an attack, she would switch her strike to target my vulnerable spots, and even as I managed to defend myself with ease, she would seize the opening to launch a counterattack. Though I wore protective gear, my wrist and neck had been thoroughly battered long ago.

After more than half a day of enduring Francesca’s rigorous training, she finally discarded her sweat-drenched guards and declared a break.

“Let’s call it a day.”

Having survived the swordsmanship training, I internally rejoiced as I plopped down onto a chair.

Francesca had recommended martial arts training for self-defense and discipline, but the execution left much to be desired.

One could say she lacked consideration for a newbie. Although Francesca patiently instructed me, I could hardly keep up with her skill.

Indeed, the National Security Agency’s internal evaluations were accurate. Even if she had been born a magician, she would have found great success as a knight.

I fanned my dripping face and gulped water.

“Ah, I’m dying….”

“Stop the dramatics. Here’s a potion.”

“Thanks.”

On the two chairs arranged in the backyard, Francesca handed me the potion while propping her cavalry sword upright and letting out a soft sigh.

The stamina recovery potion she personally made was quite excellent.

Having packed in aged pumpkins and rare ingredients into the alchemical solution with a hefty dose of expensive alchemical jewels, its effects were outstanding.

“Hmm… This one tastes like grapes. Did you burn something?”

“It’s made just as per the usual recipe.”

Francesca replied in a calm tone as she downed the potion she concocted.

The cool breeze cooled off the heat of our training. The droplets of sweat that trickled down her white skin sparkled like pearls.

As I gazed at that shiny, smooth neck, I turned my eyes away and spoke.

“I find it more fun than I expected for a beginner’s sword training.”

“You’ve never studied swordsmanship before?”

“Only a select few are trained in the military. You know, those with ambiguous suitability who can only enhance their bodies using magic?”

Having realized the reason, Francesca let out a faint exclamation.

“Oh.”

Though magic existed in this world, the military was always about efficiency. Even while consuming a budget like a hippo to maintain weapons and personnel that might never see service, there was practically no productivity to speak of.

Because of this, whether on Earth or here, the Ministry of Finance managing a country’s affairs typically held a grudge against the Ministry of Defense.

Government institutions that approved budgets, insisting they spend less money, tended to be the same throughout history, and thus, every military department only focused on the effective execution of their budget.

This applied to magic as well.

In this region, those who could wield magic fell into two main categories.

One is those with exceptional talent, who resonate with nature’s magic and transform external magic into spells within their bodies. These are what we commonly refer to as magicians.

On the other hand, some are born with ambiguous talent.

Those unable to absorb magic into their bodies or whose efficiency is low, preventing them from using magic. While they cannot perform magical acts, they could enhance their feeble bodies using magic.

People referred to those with such ambiguous traits as knights.

As Francesca listened quietly, wiping sweat away with a handkerchief, she spoke.

“It’s already been decades since knights became obsolete. Yet, people still use the term ‘knight.’”

“Because it’s the most recognizable term.”

With the introduction of gunpowder, cold weapons fell out of favor, and most knights became unemployed. Knights, once known as ‘warriors blessed by the gods’ who ruled the battlefield, could not withstand the flow of time and faded away, either turning to adventuring or serving as instructors teaching swordplay for noble families or wealthy merchants.

Of course, even government bodies like the military and police still employ a small number of knights.

“There’s little reason to teach military magic to those who can only enhance their bodies with magic, whether congenital or acquired. At the same time, it’s no good to simply disregard those without talent either.”

Even if I was a magician who couldn’t use magic, the budget-obsessed Ministry of Defense had little room for people who were merely a dead weight.

Thanks to this, knights hired by the military or police could leverage their superior physical attributes to excel in Special Forces or SWAT teams.

Perhaps she wasn’t unaware of this fact, as Francesca nodded quietly.

“My brother was the same.”

Placing the handkerchief on the table, Francesca looked up at the sky. When she eventually turned her gaze down, she found a cavalry sword leaning against the table.

“Though he was born into the Ranieri family, my older brother had no talent for magic. My mother always assured him it was fine, but since the eldest son had no aptitude for magic, there was a lot of gossip among the elders of the family.”

“Was he disappointed?”

“A little.”

Born as the eldest son of the Ranieri family, Francesca’s brother grew up with the weight of expectations upon him.

However, once it was revealed through the magic aptitude test that he had no talent for magic, the family elders noticeably displayed their disappointment toward the young heir.

“Even my father was greatly disappointed. He firmly believed that his first son would restore the family, only to find out he had no aptitude for magic. So, he didn’t receive good treatment within the family. He lived almost like a discarded child.”

Francesca spoke while tenderly stroking the handle of her cavalry sword.

From her caressing hand, an air of solitude emanated.

“So as soon as he turned adult, he left the family and joined the military, but it seems things didn’t improve for him.”

Francesca’s brother, the eldest son of the Ranieri family, threw himself into a river and ended his life.

The specifics were unknown, but I could roughly deduce the situation.

“Even if the background check passes, if you’re marked internally, you won’t receive good treatment. If someone catches the eye of the higher-ups, even normal folks have their promotions blocked and are pushed into less favorable positions.”

“Public service is often like that.”

Though her tone was casual, her expression was quite the opposite.

With glistening eyes filled with remorse, Francesca gazed into the distance.

In this villa where only the two of us remained, there was no one else around. No neighbors lived close, nor were there any passersby.

Thus, the sudden heaviness of silence weighed down more than usual.

Francesca, keeping her silence, seemed unwilling to continue with the same topic.

Whether it was a yearning for the dead or regret that weighed heavily on her heart, I could tell the silence enveloping her bore a profound pressure.

I decided to shift the conversation for her sake.

“Let’s take a walk.”

I led her toward the cliffs by the seaside.

The path from the forest to the villa captured the stunning landscape of the cliffs, the verdant fields, and the villa with its red roofs. As the crashing waves tickled our ears, we strolled slowly along that path, chatting.

I was the one who broke the silence first.

“The vacation is almost over.”

“…….”

“What will you do now?”

“Good question.”

Francesca, answering vaguely, gradually narrowed her strides and crossed her arms.

The glimmering light returned to her eyes. Now back in her element as an elite of the Secretariat, she exuded sophistication, rhythmically tapping her fingers.

“I’ll need to prepare to head north right as I return to work. The aftereffects of the battle must still linger in the northern regions, so normalizing the infrastructure in the north will be the first task.”

“And then?”

“I’ll need to address the delegation issue. I should find out why Sir Martinez hasn’t reported in, and what Miss Schneider and Sir Marbo did in the past. I’ll also need to verify once more the Secretariat staff from the Mauritania Continent’s background checks that you asked me to follow up on.”

“What about our relationship?”

At my nonchalant question, Francesca fell into silence.

She stared off into the distance, seemingly lost in thought as she forgot to even tap her fingers. The moment the wind began to tickle her neck, she finally spoke.

“Well, I’ll need to think it over.”

Francesca said.

“We’ll keep up the facade of being in a relationship for now. That’s essential for both you and me. But how long that will continue….”

“…….”

“Honestly, I’m not sure either.”

It was an ambiguous response.

In contrast to her usual clear-cut separations between work and personal life, Francesca had a hard time making a decision.

Just like someone pondering whether to jaywalk at a red light in the dead of night when no one was watching, her lips quivered.

However, once she had impulsively crossed that line, the answer was almost predetermined.

Francesca spoke again.

“But we shouldn’t cross the line any further. So—”

Now back as an information agent, she turned her body towards me as she began to step away.

“Let’s keep last night’s events a secret between us. Just our everlasting secret.”

Facing away from the cliffs, Francesca spoke in a strong voice. I silently gazed at her, lit by the vast horizon and the bright sun. Perhaps having really made up her mind, Francesca presented me with her offer with a determined face.

I nodded and responded.

“Let’s do that. If that’s what you wish.”

We were still too early to merge our bodies and share our hearts. Meeting in a professional capacity, we were reluctant to develop it into a personal relationship.

Francesca defined last night’s events as a mere one-night fling and turned to walk back to the villa. The sight of her walking along the path that followed the cliffs was starkly different from the warm embrace of the previous night.

I felt the same way.

Having repeatedly told Francesca that I loved her while embracing her, I resolved to bury the memories of last night deep within my heart.

As I closed my eyes, gathering my thoughts like meditating against the sound of crashing waves, it was then.

“Who knows.”

Francesca, walking toward the villa, turned back.

With soft eyes and a gentle smile, she surveyed me over her shoulder.

“For that moment, I might have genuinely loved you, Sir.”

With that single phrase, she vanished back, disappearing into the villa.

—

Happy moments vanished like a mirage while their intense echoes stubbornly lingered on.

The soil, soaked by surprise rains, solidified even stronger under the sun. Just like my heart, which had burned brightly only to leave ash behind.

From the terrace that overlooks the coastal cliffs, the cozy bed, the shaded backyard, and the path.

Having buried the memories of last night in a corner of my mind, I looked back one last time at all the places she and I shared before leaving the villa.

I handed my passport to the immigration officer. After checking the stamp in my passport, the officer verified a few documents and completed the exit inspection.

“Farewell.”

The officer said as I collected my passport.

Turning my head, I saw the large warp gate. Beyond the gate that was crowded with people passing through lay my destination.

An official standing in front of it raised their hat and asked where I was headed.

“To the Kingdom of Abas.”

The moment my brief and intense vacation came to an end.