A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Fresh sunlight streamed through the window. The early morning spring rays were too intense to be absorbed with a groggy mind.

Cameela, nestled in the center of the bed, was wrapped in her fluffy blanket.

“Cameela.”

Just for a moment, a gentle knock sounded, followed by a mumble that resembled a newborn’s babble.

“Just a minute….”

“It’s morning. You should be getting up.”

“Five more minutes… just five….”

What should I do with that troublemaker?

I sighed as I looked at the firmly shut door.

“Lucia is waiting. If you don’t get ready now, you’ll be late.”

“Uun….”

“I’m telling you to get up….”

Despite my earnest pleas, the only response I got was a sleep-talk like “just ten more minutes.”

After staring at the door, which showed no signs of opening even after three years had passed, I decided to throw out a bait that would appeal to Cameela.

“If you’re late, there won’t be a welcome banquet.”

Bam!

The door swung open abruptly, and a puffy-faced Cameela peeked out. Dressed in her pajamas, she gripped the doorknob and locked eyes with me.

“When do we have to go out?”

“We need to leave within 50 minutes.”

“I’ll take a shower now!”

—

Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

—

The glorious day has arrived.

Far in the distance, the sun rose, scorching the fog and blessing the dew-soaked gravel road with radiant dawn.

The sunlight, splitting through the fine dust on the glass, turned into hexagonal rays. The bright sun added drowsiness to my already heavy eyelids.

Struggling to keep my eyelids, heavier than usual, from drooping, a gentle voice tickled my ear.

Francesca.

“Are you feeling tired?”

“Yes, I’m a bit sleepy.”

As I rubbed my eyes to shake off the drowsiness, Francesca eagerly struck up a conversation.

She looked distinctly different from usual.

Her hair, tied up as if melted amethyst, was adorned with colorful cosmetics.

The outfit, made by a renowned tailor, complemented her beauty perfectly. The brown-toned suit added vitality to her translucent skin, perfectly offsetting the potentially pale impression with pastel colors and check patterns.

Her outstanding appearance and meticulous self-care enhanced Francesca’s allure even further.

Caught in the awakening scene, I chuckled and offered a teasing compliment to Francesca, who sat in front of me.

“You really made an effort.”

“I’ve always been like this.”

Francesca replied calmly, lifting her head slightly. As always, her attitude oozed confidence. I smiled gently and turned my gaze to the window.

We were on the way to the Cathedral where the canonization ceremony was being held.

The streets were packed with people, leaving no room even to step. Riding in the carriage provided by the cult, we slowly moved through the throngs of people, escorted by the police.

“There are a lot of people gathered.”

“It’s a global event.”

“True, it’s a festival of the cult.”

The canonization ceremony of the cult, revered as one of the world’s three greatest religions, is indeed a worldwide affair.

Priests and monks had eagerly awaited this ceremony, and even non-believers flocked from all regions to witness it.

In a world where divine powers exist, the influence of religion was astonishing.

I sighed quietly, observing the congested road.

“If we had left just 30 minutes earlier, we wouldn’t be stuck like this. All because of someone….”

“Ehehe….”

Cameela scratched her cheek, looking sheepish.

“That’s why I told you to go to bed early and wake up early!”

“I couldn’t sleep because I was nervous….”

As Lucia’s canonization ceremony approached, Cameela struggled with her excitement.

Having lived her whole life on this planet, she experienced the wonders of magic only through movies but shared with me that every day felt new.

When she woke up in the morning, she always couldn’t wait to know what happened last night and what would unfold today. This time, it seemed she was particularly curious about the events to unfold during the canonization ceremony.

Having seen all kinds of weirdos while working at the Information Agency, I could assert that Cameela was uniquely in the top five of those characters.

By the way, one of those top five was sitting right in front of me.

“If you didn’t stay up late usually, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Chii—.”

Cameela, the British girl with her lips pouted, grumbled.

“But! Taking it slow and sightseeing isn’t bad either!”

“We agreed to call this traffic jam.”

“Oh, come on, that’s just too much!”

Shaking with frustration, Cameela finally moved to the corner, and Francesca began to giggle softly at her cute demeanor.

“Don’t scold her too much, Colonel. You’re not in a position to talk, are you?”

“What did I do to deserve that?”

“Take a look in the mirror once.”

Her slender fingers brushed gently around my eyes as Francesca continued.

“Your dark circles are down to your chin.”

“…Ah.”

“What were you doing last night for those dark circles to appear?”

I gazed blankly out the window.

Then, I cleared my throat and spoke.

“Well, I had a bit of a scuffle with someone.”

“You, Colonel? Did you lose?”

“Not a chance.”

As the Minister of National Defense of the Republic of Korea once said, fights are meant to last until the opponent surrenders.

…Though that surrender might differ a bit from what I meant.

—

Originally, it was customary for the canonization ceremonies to be held at Altiora Cathedral, but the cult decided to hold this ceremony at the Cathedral of Tranquille.

The unspoken rule that only one saint could exist in a given era had been broken.

According to church law, canonization ceremonies must be held at the Altiora Cathedral, where the saints traditionally lived, but the owner of Altiora Cathedral is Saint Veronica, who was canonized over a decade ago.

The prevailing sentiment in the religious community was that if the owner was still alive, they couldn’t appoint a new one, hence the Holy See chose the Cathedral of Tranquille for Lucia’s canonization ceremony.

For reference, Cardinal Raphael’s coronation will take place at the Mediouse Cathedral, the residence of the Pope.

With the birth of a new saint, the Cathedral of Tranquille has been newly elevated.

As I looked at the now-familiar cathedral, I couldn’t help but gasp.

“Wow….”

It feels like just yesterday I sneaked in here to meet the reclusive Lucia. Now it’s already the day of the canonization.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one caught in nostalgia. The once-pouting Cameela was now chattering non-stop, admiring the majestic cathedral.

“Wow. It’s beautiful here, as always. Will Lucia live here from now on?”

“That’s right. She’s the sole owner of the cathedral.”

Canonized saints receive many privileges from the cult. They enjoy political influence and the hospitality comparable to that of a state guest.

One of those privileges includes receiving the cathedral as their residence.

Some critics argue how a religious figure can be the owner of a church, accusing them of being tainted by the secular world, but this has been a tradition that has persisted for centuries.

Saints of the cult hold the right to reside in the cathedral for as long as they wish, being favored by divine beings until their death.

A prime example of this is Veronica. Immediately following her canonization, she became the owner of the Altiora Cathedral and still resides there. Though there are criticisms of her taking advantage of her rights and shirking obligations, no one has denied Saint Veronica’s authority as a saint.

Well, ultimately, it doesn’t concern me.

The ones suffering from Veronica’s indulgence and negligence are neither me nor the high priests and Pope.

Anyhow.

We moved towards the Cathedral of Tranquille, where the canonization ceremony was taking place.

The eyes of priests arriving from various regions and government representatives from countries followed us like a tail. However, we didn’t feel the slightest bit conscious of it.

Cameela, a free spirit more bizarre than any hippie, and Francesca, a celebrity accustomed to being in the limelight, both fit in seamlessly.

I was no exception.

It was only natural for a spy like me to attract attention.

However, what worried me was not the gazes of impostors.

“Colonel Frederick.”

It wasn’t those onlookers.

“The Duke is calling for you.”

—

Thick smoke filled the room.

The air was heavy with the rancid smell of cigarettes piled high in the ashtray. The whiskey bottle rolling on the floor emitted an even stronger scent.

In a haze of dense alcohol and cigarette smoke.

The woman sitting refrained from paying any mind and continued to fill her glass until it sloshed.

With a crystal glass firmly clasped in hand.

The swallowing sound rang out unabashedly for a moment. As she emptied the liquor into her throat, the woman wiped her mouth with her sleeve and let out a gasp.

“Ugh…!”

Thump!

Slamming the cup down roughly, Veronica muttered with a flushed face.

“Dammit…! They say raising daughters is useless… and here I am with two brats….”

“…Saint. You should stop drinking and head out now.”

Despite the priest’s pleading advice, the saint didn’t flinch.

“Ugh…! You trashy bastard….”

With her head resting on the table, Veronica began to sniffle.

The priest watching this silently closed his eyes and clasped his hands.

Oh God, please, grant her a lightning strike to bring her to her senses.