A Dark Fantasy Spy

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“Pope, why do you say such things?”

“I am simply inquiring about your thoughts.”

“Are you referring to political thoughts?”

“I am not trying to verify any ideology. I am purely curious about your perspective on the Magic Tower.”

“…It’s a topic I’ve never considered before.”

“It’s not a difficult question, is it?”

“……”

“Do you need time to think about it?”

“I believe I need some time to gather my thoughts, Your Holiness.”

“……”

“……”

“…Very well. Then come see me again tomorrow.”

—

Episode 14 – One Religion, One Belief, Two Saints

The Pope had a private meeting with Lucia. During this process, friction arose between Lucia and the Pope.

I didn’t know the details, but it was clear that something significant was happening.

So I sought out someone well-informed about the internal affairs of the Cult.

“Oh my, Colonel! What brings you here?”

Saint Veronica of the Cult.

She was right there as I burst through the door.

“What the heck?”

Taken aback by the sight of Veronica, I staggered back.

The room inside was filled with fog. At first glance, it appeared to be mist, but a pungent, acrid smell that assaulted my nose was definitely cigarette smoke.

This was Veronica’s favorite tobacco shop, a place said to house exotic and fascinating tobacco from around the world, now thick with smoke.

There wasn’t a single staff member in the shop.

In the middle of that smoke, there sat Veronica, lounging comfortably.

“Ah….”

She exhaled the smoke into the air, placed a Maduro cigar in the ashtray, and waved her hand with a sly grin.

With the stench of smoke that felt like it was decaying my lungs, I covered my nose with my sleeve and approached her.

“You said you were busy, but came all this way just to smoke a cigar?”

“I heard the new products came in, so I rushed over for a break from work.”

“What about your work?”

“Someone must be handling it for me.”

What a crazy person. How did someone like her become a saint?

I decided to stop trying to understand the incomprehensible world of religion.

Regardless, the saint, Veronica, who abandoned her work for a smoke break, pulled out a cigar from the box and offered it to me.

“Here, a bribe.”

“What is this?”

“It means I want you to keep quiet after receiving this. Take it. My arm is getting tired.”

I let out a deep sigh.

With her deft hands, Veronica completed the cutting and toasting, then handed me the lit cigar.

As I savored the heavy smoke that hit the roof of my mouth and nose, I exhaled and stuffed a piece of chocolate into my mouth to wash away the acrid taste.

“What brings you here? I still haven’t gotten the list of imperial officials.”

“I heard Lucia had a private meeting with Pope John XVI. What happened?”

“Just as it sounds.”

Tilting her head, Veronica brushed back her silk-like black hair and began to explain.

“Three days before your arrival, the Pope called Lucia to the palace. They had a private meeting for about ten minutes, then met again the next day in the garden to talk.”

“What did they discuss that led to a private meeting?”

“I wouldn’t know. The guards were tight-lipped, and no one heard anything. All I know is that right after the meeting, the Pope left the garden looking furious, and Lucia got into her carriage with a gloomy expression. So rumors are swirling that something went wrong.”

After their meeting, the Pope was furious, and the saint began to shut herself away.

If the typically gentle Lucia stayed cooped up in her room, it was clear that something serious was going on within the Cult.

Moreover, the Pope was a priest who had held high positions in the Inquisition, a hardliner among hardliners. He was the opposite of the gentle Lucia.

“……”

To find out what transpired in that meeting, I needed to meet one of the parties involved.

But Lucia was shut away, and the Pope was not easy to meet.

Perhaps due to my anxious state, I swiftly took another drag from the cigar, and it started to taste burnt.

Throwing the cigar into the ashtray, I exhaled the burnt taste and looked at Veronica.

“Veronica.”

“Yes?”

“Where is Lucia now?”

—

Bethlehem for Christianity, Mecca for Islam, Jerusalem for Judaism.

Every religion has a sacred location. People call such places holy lands.

The Cult is no exception.

“Rusalim,” where the Divine descended to Earth and ascended first.

“Tiberias,” where the three wise men read the stars and sought teachings from the Divine.

Finally, “Lateran,” where the Pope, after witnessing the decline of the Cult following the war with Al-Yabd, received a revelation and relocated.

Lateran is the holy land and headquarters of the Cult.

Streets lined with buildings crafted by the finest architects of the era over centuries. The towering cathedral, along with the cobblestones and alleyways, is steeped in thousands of years of history.

As the splendid light gifted by the heavens clears the serene morning mist, the holy land begins to burst with life.

Two days before Frederick arrived at the Cult.

Lucia, staring blankly at the city awakening to the morning, snapped back to reality at the sound of a nun’s voice.

“Shall we go?”

“Yes.”

As she walked along the path that opened between the stone columns, the marble soon disappeared, replaced by gravel and grass.

In the garden set within the cathedral.

An old man, gently caressing the equipment and smelling the flowers, looked up just in time to see her.

“You’ve come?”

Pope John XVI.

The soon-to-retire Pope greeted her with a childlike smile that did not match his age, inviting her to sit.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation, Saint. I’ve prepared some refreshments, so please take a seat.”

“Yes, Your Holiness.”

Lucia graciously sat in the seat prepared for her.

The Pope approached, tapping his walking stick on the grass. As a middle-aged priest carefully pulled out the chair, the Pope leaned his cane against the table and slowly sat down.

A sigh escaped him momentarily, as he paused to regain his breath.

Pope John XVI poured tea into the cups for both Lucia and himself.

“Thank you for humoring this old man’s whims. I would have liked to come visit, but it’s not easy for me to move these days.”

The garden set in the cathedral courtyard held a rich green hue, even in the chilly weather.

The plants, thoroughly cared for by priests and monks, radiated vibrant health, while the fragrant blossoms scattered their lively scent in the wind.

The roses blooming where the Pope reached out, he picked one and offered it to Lucia.

“It smells wonderful. Would you like to smell it as well?”

“The rose?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, yes. Just a moment, please.”

After asking for permission, Lucia stood and approached the rose bush.

Carefully touching the roses to avoid thorns, she leaned down to inhale their fragrance.

“…Hmm.”

The Pope remained silent, gazing at Lucia’s figure lost in thought until she returned to the table.

Lucia adjusted the petals stuck in her hair and spoke.

“It smells lovely.”

“Indeed, it does. The gardeners will be pleased to hear that.”

With a gentle smile, the Pope beckoned the surroundings.

First, the inquisitor and nuns who were assisting the Pope and Lucia left, followed by the priests, until only the Pope and the saint remained in the garden.

The Pope sipped the water in his transparent cup, casually opening the conversation.

“These days, doctors are insisting I cut back on sugary foods. I’ve gotten as old as the Emperor, and they say I should prioritize my health, but it’s not an easy thing to stop something I enjoy, and it’s worrying.”

“Good medicines are usually bitter, aren’t they?”

“So I’ve been secretly sneaking in some candy. It’s the only joy in this old man’s life. Hehe.”

With that, the Pope popped a piece of candy into his mouth, chuckling playfully.

Watching the Pope with a worried expression, Lucia suddenly lifted her gaze at his next words.

“Can I expect an answer to the question I posed you yesterday, here today?”

“I’m sorry, Your Holiness.”

Lucia gently shook her head.

“I still haven’t found an answer.”

“So you’re still contemplating it, is that right?”

“Embarrassingly, yes. That’s correct.”

“Hoho.”

Lucia hung her head, but the Pope laughed heartily, indicating it was alright. Pope John XVI wore a relaxed smile as he quietly joked.

“The only person who makes me wait this long must be you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. The bishop and the cardinals have never made me wait like this. You’re the first.”

“What about Saint Veronica?”

“Ah….”

At the sudden mention of Veronica’s name, a cloud of gloom fell over John XVI’s expression.

“Ah, yes. There’s indeed someone else who makes me wait each time. However, it’s not just waiting; it feels like my patience is being corroded… but… let’s put that aside for now.”

With his face laden with worry, he trailed off and cleared his throat, trying to redirect the conversation elsewhere.

“I arranged this meeting to hear your answer, but I didn’t call you here just for that.”

“Do you have something specific you wish to discuss?”

“Yes, exactly that.”

“What are you going to say?”

“It’s a complicated topic. Should I call it philosophical or theological? It’s also a political subject, difficult to pin down and explain clearly.”

As the Pope continued explaining, he paused for a moment to refresh himself.

Then, grasping the handle of his walking stick with his wrinkled hand, he said this.

“But if I had to summarize it in one sentence….”

“……”

“I could say it’s about the future of our church and cult.”

—

“Lucia? She’s in her quarters. But you probably can’t get in.”

“Why not?”

“Did you forget, Colonel? The Imperial Guard planted a mole in my quarters and installed a listening device at one point. Because of that, security has been tightened. Dozens of knights are on patrol around her place, and the Inquisition is keeping a close watch. Who could get in? No one is allowed inside, not even me.”

“Lucia is not receiving visitors.”

“That’s right. It seems that this girl, having grown up, refuses to see me, even when I come by.”

Displaying a somewhat irritable demeanor, Veronica chewed on her cigar and sighed, conveying that there was nothing to be done.

“So just give up. Don’t waste your efforts running into walls.”

“Is there truly no one entering her quarters? Even if it’s just the building?”

“Well, I guess the priests and knight orders assisting Lucia come and go for items she needs. Some have daily commutes. But why are you asking?”

“……”

“……”

As I pondered in silence, Veronica’s expression suddenly shifted slightly.

Not noticing the ashes falling on her clothes as she looked at me, she asked with a puzzled gaze.

“Colonel.”

“Yes?”

“You’re not thinking of disguising yourself as a priest to sneak into Lucia’s quarters, are you? Right?”

Veronica continued to press with her questions. I quietly lit up a cigarette and met her gaze.

No further conversation was needed.

“Go find out the list of visitors and the way to get to her quarters.”

“What are you, crazy….”

Throwing the cigar aside, Veronica grabbed her neck in frustration.