A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Who’s coming?

Before I could even ask such a question, I had already arrived on the scene. Up until that moment, I was filled with doubt about whether what I heard was real.

But the spectacle laid out before my eyes was far too vivid.

I stood there speechless, absorbing the scenery around me.

Flags fluttering and the two-headed eagle symbolizing the Kien Empire.

A ceremonial guard forming a line that seemed to stretch endlessly.

A red carpet, perfectly laid out without a single wrinkle.

And.

The largest airship boasted by the Imperial Navy.

A familiar face descending with magnificent silver hair swirling around.

“It’s been a long time.”

The Duke of the North and the Great Archmage.

Alexandra Smirnov had appeared at the holy ground of the cult.

—

Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

—

The appearance of Duke Alexandra was sudden. She had been in seclusion, refraining from public appearances for several years.

When she emerged as the representative of the Empire, leading a delegation, people could only express disbelief.

Those who had not heard news from the North since the declaration of martial law were often startled at the unexpected return of a forgotten figure. This even baffled seasoned diplomats who had been in the field for years.

Her appearance was as sudden as it was splendid.

And yet, it was puzzling at the same time.

“…Why is she here?”

As the duke disembarked from the airship, she confidently strode down the red carpet, receiving the salute of the cult’s ceremonial guard.

At that moment, I couldn’t help but stare at her in disbelief.

“What do you think, Colonel?”

Francesca, with a broad smile, sneaked up and began to whisper.

“It’s not the heir of the Archmage, but the Archmage herself who has graced us with her presence. There shouldn’t be anyone left to criticize me now, right?”

“Is that really what’s important right now?”

“Hmm, you seemed worried about my safety for a while… But it seems your mind has changed. The saying about someone being different when they come in and out of the restroom must apply here, huh?”

As I covered my face with my palm to mask my frustrations, her melodious laughter reached my ears.

Francesca, seeing that I understood, stopped her teasing and asked in a serious tone.

“Then what do you consider important, Colonel?”

“No!”

I whispered sharply, pointing at Duke Alexandra. “That person was the one who bombed Lateran ages ago!”

—

Alexandra Smirnov. A direct descendant of the Smirnov family and the aunt of Emperor Nikolai VI, she was the Duke of the North and the Archmage of the Magic Tower.

In fact, the title of Archmage is somewhat misleading. Unlike Francesca and other mages who hold dual citizenship with Patalia and the Magic Tower, she is a pure citizen of the Kien Empire.

Members of the imperial family like the Smirnovs cannot obtain foreign nationality.

With great power comes great responsibility, and the power of royalty is proportional to their bloodline. Alexandra was of legitimate blood, born of an emperor and his lawful wife, making her the rightful heir, as well as the emperor’s aunt.

Despite being a mage that transcends the realm of ordinary humans, as long as she bore royal blood, Alexandra too was not free from the long-standing customs and regulations of the imperial family.

The issue was that Alexandra Smirnov was not just any mage; she was the Archmage.

Archmages.

The great mages who founded the Magic Tower by fighting against the cult.

Archmages are respected and welcomed everywhere, but not within the cult.

After all, Duke Alexandra was the general who commanded the Magic Tower’s forces in the war against the cult.

Her most notable achievement during this history-altering war was the massive airstrike she conducted on the heart of the cult in Lateran.

“……”

At the beginning of the war, the Magic Tower was on the defensive.

Despite receiving support from foreign governments, the Magic Tower found itself outmatched in every way, both in numbers and military organization, compared to the cult, which had an organized army brimming with experience.

When battles erupted, the combat mages of the Magic Tower were ruthlessly annihilated beneath the swords of the knights, while the Inquisition’s daggers found their way into the throats of diplomatic mages sent far and wide for aid. The cult was determined to shatter the Magic Tower, and the tide of war shifted rapidly, plummeting the morale of the mages.

In that dire situation, Duke Alexandra bombed the cult’s holy land, Lateran. Alongside four other archmages, she led a team of ten.

Being captured meant death. In truth, merely succeeding in infiltration was a miracle.

To penetrate the heart of the cult, strike key facilities, and return alive to the Magic Tower required three miracles.

It was a mission undertaken with a death wish.

And it was successful.

Mages soared above Lateran, showering the city in magical devastation. The headquarters of the Inquisition, the command center, the cathedral where the pope resided.

Only three sites were attacked, but all three strikes were triumphant. Shocked by the sudden appearance of mages, the cult hastily withdrew their forces, providing the beleaguered Magic Tower with a much-needed reprieve. The boost in morale was a bonus.

Because of that operation’s success, the Magic Tower still exists today.

From that perspective, Alexandra Smirnov is a figure deserving of recognition as a foremost hero, politically, historically, and militarily.

The problem, however, is that this is the heart of the cult, Lateran.

And one hundred years ago, she was the very person who turned this city into ruins.

I stared blankly into the void, lost in thought.

Then suddenly, I pondered.

“…Have I finally lost my mind?”

To walk into the very city she bombed herself? It’s an act unfathomable to a normal person’s psyche.

“Is this what they call tea-bagging?”

What kind of face does she have to even set foot in Lateran? Wait, why did the cult allow her to come here? Did they, perhaps, extend an invitation first?

As my mind was flooded with such complicated thoughts, the anchor on the screen quickly recited news of the duke.

—

[This morning, Duke Alexandra appeared at the cult’s holy land, Lateran. Breaking years of seclusion, she emerged to represent the Kien Empire at the canonization ceremony of Saint Lucia….]

[As dawn approached, under tight security, the vehicles of Duke Alexandra’s party entered one after another. The entrance of the hotel where the duke stayed was secured with a massive curtain and checkpoints. While the Kien Empire’s guards remained on high alert, the Papal Guard patrolled the outer edges of the hotel armed with rifles….]

—

Having arrived in Lateran, the duke was entering the hotel with her entourage.

The empire’s guards and the cult’s ceremonial guards were escorting high-ranking officials such as the ministers of foreign affairs, industry, and land management—all aged over fifty—who were dutifully looking after a duke barely in her thirties.

It was truly a nonsensical sight. Grown men of a generation older than her were scurrying around like children in her presence.

Yet knowing that that woman in her thirties was one of the legitimate heirs of the imperial family and the infamous aunt of tyrant Nikolai VI, leaving the mark of a significant figure in modern history, one could easily see beads of cold sweat form on those ministers’ faces.

And it was someone seated right next to me who caught on to that fact.

“Wow, those people really look pitiful.”

With a crunch, Camila munched on some nuts she had pulled from a bag while watching the television. Perhaps savoring the rich, nutty flavor, she smacked her lips and continued.

“That duke on the screen, that’s the one, right? The same person Lucia sent a letter asking for help in catching the demon.”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Hmm, when I saw her portrait, I thought it was a bit exaggerated. I didn’t expect her to maintain her youth so well.”

“…….”

“Something feels strangely familiar about her, like I’ve met her somewhere before… Did I see her in the North? My memory’s a bit scrambled.”

As if reminiscing proved too difficult, Camila frowned and chewed on her nuts, suddenly turning to me with a puzzled expression.

“But why are you sweating so much?”

In truth, the world may be a comedy seen from afar, but up close, it’s a tragedy. Life, too, is like that.

Sitting next to Camila, opening a bag of nuts to share, I glanced at the missed call notifications flashing on my phone, dripping with cold sweat.

“…This is maddening.”

Ever since news of the duke appeared on TV, my phones have been ringing like crazy.

Was this a dream? But as both my work and personal phones were blinking frantically, it seemed to be all too real.

Rubbing my eyes in disbelief, I finally came to my senses and started organizing the chaos.

“Ugh, damn it….”

Not surprisingly, those with a keen sense for the scent of trouble bypassed the embassy and directly called me.

Perhaps due to the last few months spent assisting the entourage, whenever issues arose concerning any of the trio—Camila, Lucia, or Francesca—most people began seeking me out first.

And unfortunately, this latest incident was tied to one of those three—Lucia—because the duke, who had remained hidden in the North, chose to reveal herself at none other than Lucia’s canonization ceremony in Lateran.

“Ugh… You have it rough. Need some help?”

“You just stick to eating your nuts…”

Camila looked at me with the eyes of a cat mom gazing down at a stray cat. Her eyes dripped with pity, and she clicked her tongue, teasingly.

I had to prioritize the important calls. Sorting through my list, I rapidly began working through the ringing calls.

The work phone of the embassy representing the Kingdom of Abas, with the ambassador’s number flashing. I passed on that.

Then there was a call from a diplomat I happened to meet at the Magic Tower. Though they were technically foreign royal intelligence agents, I tossed that aside too, knowing it wasn’t urgent.

I spent a while frantically scrolling through the phone numbers, rejecting calls. Abas Foreign Ministry, Ministry of Defense, an embassy, foreign diplomats and soldiers, foreign intelligence agents, and so on.

Finally, after a series of rejections and quite a drawn-out process,

I could finally, for the first time, hit the call button instead of rejecting it.

The first call I received was from Leoni at the Military Intelligence Agency.

-‘What’s going on?’

As soon as the call connected, Leoni demanded an explanation. Quickly, I summarized the current situation for her.

Next came another call from the Military Intelligence Agency, this time from Colonel Clevenz.

-‘I’ve heard the news. The duke’s there, huh?’

“Yes.”

-‘Any information yet?’

I answered, but I had no valuable intel to share.

After all, I had just learned about the duke’s arrival. I had no idea she was even coming here, and my only encounter with her until this moment had been a distant view with Francesca.

However, having gleaned bits of gossip from my informants over the past few days, I purely imparted the typical details, only sharing the refined intel I collected.

-‘Pope John XVI was keeping a separate list of Empire visitors?’

“Yes.”

-‘Then both the cult and the Empire had already agreed beforehand on the duke’s participation in the canonization ceremony….’

“Considering the duke’s status, it’s quite likely that various government branches, including the Foreign Affairs and Intelligence departments, coordinated efforts. The imperial family’s approval was probably sought as well.”

-‘Certainly. What about the Magic Tower? Did the Oracle know the duke would be attending the ceremony?’

“I doubt that.”

-‘Hmm, I see….’

The Empire and the cult secretly collaborated. The great archmage, Alexandra Smirnov, was set to participate in the ceremony representing the Empire.

Yet, the Magic Tower, the center of wizardry, remained completely oblivious to this fact, despite its predictable sensitivity to the actions of an archmage. Though Francesca seemed to have a hint of foreknowledge about it.

What mattered was that both the Empire and the cult kept the duke’s visit under tight wraps until her airship landed in Lateran.

And no one had given any hint to the Magic Tower.

Even Duke Alexandra, the archmage herself.

At that point, all I could say to my former and current superiors was:

-‘Find out what’s really going on.’

-‘Looks like we’ll need you to do a bit of legwork.’

All I got were orders.

—

Leoni, who tossed me the task with no consideration, provided me with operational funds.

Slush funds. Money that doesn’t need reporting, perfectly suitable for embezzling.

Though I was visibly unenthusiastic about the work, once I received a sum equivalent to several years of my salary, I dashed off to the hotel where the duke was staying.

Arriving in a civilian outfit at the entrance of the five-star hotel selected by the imperial delegation, I could only click my tongue in disbelief at the scene I witnessed.

“…Wow, it’s crawling with people.”

The main entrance was draped in pitch-black curtains. To prevent any untoward incidents from occurring at the predicted entrance, the cult had imposed total control over all entry points to the hotel and erected massive barriers. On top of that, the Papal Guard, shedding their traditional garb, now stood armed with the latest weaponry on high alert around the hotel.

Not only that.

Looking up, every window of the hotel was tightly locked with curtains, the structure soaring sky-high with hundreds of rooms.

What does this mean?

“Did they book the entire place?”

The imperial government had reserved every floor of the hotel for the delegation.

Not to mention, right before the airship’s arrival, the diplomats from the imperial embassy had refunded and evicted even the other guests who had been staying there. All for the sake of safeguarding Duke Alexandra.

Just thirty minutes prior, I might have encountered a family who was peacefully resting in their room. Suddenly kicked out and left wandering around the hotel, I approached them posing as a journalist.

“The hotel staff asked you to vacate your room without warning?”

“Exactly! We were all asleep when they started knocking at the door. They looked frantic, so we stepped outside, only to see staff rushing along the corridor, banging on doors. At first, I thought there was a fire!”

“And what happened then?”

“I didn’t want to leave because I had reserved the room for months; it would have been ridiculous. They assured me they’d fully refund me and asked me to step outside to talk…”

Upon taking a look around, I noticed many others around were experiencing the same ordeal. I hesitated and disguised myself as a journalist to extract interviews from them.

But this approach had its limits; given that the empire had rented out the entire hotel, gathering information on which rooms the duke or the officials occupied could not solely rely on interviewing civilians.

If only they were civilians.

I promptly took out my phone and connected to the embassy of the Kingdom of Abas. It seemed someone was still in the office, as I heard a voice within three rings of dialing.

“Hey, it’s me. Long time no see! How’s the weather over there?”

-‘Yes, it seems like I can keep this call short.’

“Great. Uh, we have a delivery of important items. But I’m currently out, and I can’t verify if everything arrived safely. Could you check if the contents are intact?”

-‘We failed to tap in.’

The information officer assigned to the embassy informed me of their wiretapping results.

-‘About twenty minutes before the duke and delegation entered the hotel, both the imperial guards and embassy staff arrived first. While conversations within the hotel were audible up until the duke’s vehicle arrived at the entrance, thereafter all sounds were obscured, leaving us with no clue as to what they did.’

“Looks like they had quite a robust soundproofing measure.”

-‘Yes, it appears they anticipated eavesdropping attempts.’

I quickly skimmed through the official documentation collected by the intel officers.

Every hotel room was fitted with plush carpets and heavy curtains. Unlike structural materials that reflect sound, carpeting and curtains naturally absorb sounds.

The imperial intelligence officers and royal guards who arrived at the delegation’s accommodations not only left no stone unturned with the curtains but had likely even installed separate devices to prevent eavesdropping.

-‘There have been voices suggesting we should directly enter the hotel and gather information. However, given the potential for this matter to escalate into a diplomatic incident, I doubt upper management would permit it. Just keeping you informed about the discussions.’

“Ah, thank you. Take care.”

As I took a drag from my cigarette, I cast a glance at the hotel that stood firm like a fortress.

No tapping. No inquiries. Not even a chance to attempt an infiltration.

I even considered the possibility of approaching hotel employees or embassy staff, but at this point, it was likely that the Imperial Guard and Counter-Intelligence Division were watching the duke’s vicinity, wide-eyed and vigilant. This option was off the table as well.

It was a complete deadlock.

“Ugh….”

Sighing deeply, I scratched my eyebrow. Should I go find Veronica or Francesca?

As those thoughts crossed my mind, a familiar melody pierced my ears.

—

I pulled out my phone, my teeth still gripped around a cigarette, glancing at the number before breaking into a smile.

Speaking of the devil.

“Hello, Francesca, what’s up?”

Through the phone, Francesca’s voice greeted me.

-‘Colonel. The duke is looking for you.’