A Dark Fantasy Spy

Chapter 417




Three shamans standing tall atop the crumbled building. One spy leaning against a plank. And in the middle, a magician who barges in.

With milky eyes, they scan the area. What remains in the wake of sorcery is but weak dust, flickering magic power that dances like smoke, and death.

The blue-eyed figure didn’t possess any remarkable hue. The gaze fixated on the ruins was reminiscent of someone just awakened from sleep, lacking any intriguing flare and instead feeling slightly hazy. As such, it seemed to emanate a gloomy atmosphere at a glance.

“…Was it you?”

The first words escaped Camila, who surveyed the surroundings. Her eyes turned towards the shaman standing tall amid the rubble.

In response, Fatima nudged the shaman colleague beside her aside and stepped forward, facing the magician.

“And so?”

“…….”

Tsk. Hah. The previously inflated chest lightly deflates.

Releasing a deep breath, Camila pulls her hand out from her pocket to respond.

“I merely asked to confirm.”

With those words, her fingertips, lowered towards the ground, began to shimmer.

Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

The air begins to ripple. Like the distortion seen in the air when strong sunlight strikes.

It’s a premonition of her power.

Frederick, clutching his pistol, looks at Camila, forcing his mouth open with effort.

“What are you trying to do?”

“We have to fight.”

Camila steps forward in response. Hearing her words, Frederick huffs as if in shock.

“You plan to confront a shaman? Camila, are you out of your mind?”

“Yes. I’m completely sane.”

“You’ve never fought before!”

Whether she couldn’t hear or chose not to listen, Camila pressed on, ignoring the call of Frederick behind her.

Fatima gazed at her approaching figure.

“Are you going to fight?”

No answer returned. That silence itself was the answer.

The shaman began to chuckle mockingly.

“Got some guts, huh? I’ll give you that. But what can you do alone?”

“…….”

The two shamans exchanged glances.

The shaman who had conjured the water screen assumed a stance with palms together. The one who summoned the wind approached, seemingly to assist their injured colleague, but Fatima halted her with a gesture.

Holding her abdomen, stained with blood, Fatima stepped over the rubble.

The scene resembled a gladiator overlooking a challenger approaching from below.

Camila silently proceeded towards the shaman. Since she was a magician, she hadn’t made a pact with a beastman before the battle.

Fatima’s smile grew more pronounced as she looked down at her.

When facing a shaman, the most crucial principle is controlling distance.

The most efficient and effective way to subdue a shaman is to attack unilaterally, out of reach of their sorcery. How could one not smile at that? Presenting oneself to be killed.

‘So foolish.’

Fatima muttered internally. This novice didn’t even know the basic methods for facing a shaman, yet dared to confront several alone. What was she thinking?

Crossing her fingers, she aligned her fingertips to create a pathway.

Following the trail of magic flowing through her fingertips, the spell gradually took shape and completed.

Even as the sorcery was coming together, Camila continued to draw near.

One step, another step. There was no hesitation in her pace.

Fatima gauged the timing of her attack based on Camila’s stride. Just a few more steps. If she came just a bit closer…

Then it happened.

Camila, who had been approaching silently, suddenly stopped. It was the moment that Fatima squinted her eyes in preparation for an attack.

One step. Just one step remained.

“…….”

Camila didn’t look up at the shaman glaring fiercely at her. Instead, it was as though she was merely sweeping her gaze around the room before stepping through a door.

In her blue eyes, she couldn’t find anything peculiar about the ground below. But a magician doesn’t only possess the sight to observe the world.

A magician looks at all with magic and yearns to grasp the principles. Those eyes peering through the veil to glimpse the truth sensed the oddities in the flow of magic hovering in the air.

That is why Camila cast her spell.

The shimmering air at her fingertips converged into a single point. A tiny orb resembling a small, red flame.

Camila, who packed magic into the small dot, pointed her hand at the shaman.

She extended her index finger and bent her thumb. With the rest of her fingers curled, her hand formed a shape akin to a pistol.

A playful gesture, but her attitude was dead serious. Forming a hand shape resembling a pistol, Camila pointed her finger at the shaman and bent her index finger.

As if pulling the trigger.

And then,

“Bang.”

A massive explosion engulfed the shamans.

The tremendous flame momentarily filled the vision. The entire world turned crimson as if paint had been splashed over a blank canvas.

As the explosion erupted, the surroundings brightened instantly. The blinding light pierced through like a needle, causing my eyes to instinctively shut.

“Damn…!”

The blast swept through not just forward but to the left and right as well.

From where the flames had passed, only two figures remained intact: Camila, who had triggered the explosion, and, miraculously, me, who was fortunate enough to be behind her.

From my crouched position to the side, I lifted my head and shouted.

“…What the heck was that?!”

“My magic.”

As I looked around, Camila unfolded her bent finger and, with a huff, added, “I didn’t just sit around for five months.”

After being taught by the Duke, her magic has drastically improved. Whether when she smashed a swarm of locusts in one blow or now, Camila’s ability had strayed far beyond my previous memory.

“It’s not exactly perfected magic.”

As if to say that wasn’t magic. Then what was that blast from before?

While recalling the explosion that had been big enough to completely engulf the debris of the crumbled building, I directed my questioning gaze at Camila, who was pouting her lower lip in confusion.

“Just some application? I adjusted what I learned for a moment.”

“That’s what you call application…?”

Should researchers who were sacrificing sleep to develop high-power military magic hear this, they’d definitely exclaim, “Ugh, damn! What a talent-sucking asshole. Can’t stand this anymore!” But her expression remained so nonchalant.

Camila, who responded in such a calm tone, raised her hand to stop me from getting up.

It signified that the battle was not yet over.

-Kuwuuuuuu…!

The debris, lifted by the explosion, began to stir. The sounds reminiscent of an earthquake erupted.

From among the tumbling concrete pieces, unfriendly light poured forth, creating an expanding space as if something were emerging.

“…Earth-tier sorcery.”

Camila whispered softly. Despite her previous ignorance of magic, she had now acquired knowledge about sorcery as well. It appeared the Duke had been a good teacher.

As the massive debris rolled away, figures began to reveal themselves. The shamans.

Though I had expected they would be dead from the impact, they were still alive and breathing.

Of course, they weren’t unscathed.

“Cough, cough…!”

The male shaman struggling to emerge from the rubble wheezed.

In that fleeting moment, had he somehow used a spell? He managed to escape death by a whisker. But his condition was anything but good.

He thumped his chest and gaped his mouth wide. Yet with uneven breath, he produced only the strangest sounds like someone choking.

I could see vapor rising around him like a mirage.

Steam.

The water-type shaman had drawn up groundwater to create a barrier just before the explosion occurred. Since the sewage system was torn up, plenty of water lay scattered around.

However, there was one fact the shaman didn’t know. The moment a liquid transitions to a vapor, it expands as free atoms.

When heat is applied, water turns to steam.

In a common scenario of boiling water in a pot, it’s no issue, but when water suddenly transforms into vapor, an explosion occurs. This phenomenon is often witnessed when a volcano erupts, where steam unexpectedly detonates, causing tragedy and significant damage to the surroundings.

Of course, Camila’s flames weren’t hot enough to rival a volcano. Perhaps like splashing water on a heated grill.

Yet even when water is splashed onto an overheated grill, explosions can occur.

“Gahhh!”

The shouting shaman began rolling on the ground, attempting to extinguish the flames clinging to him.

With a hoarse voice and the accompanying coughing fit, his charred face twisted. Just from that, I could gauge his condition. That guy—he’s suffered burns in his respiratory system.

A patient with inhalation burns typically requires emergency treatment. Considering Hassan held a tight grip on the local hospitals, I knew there was little hope for that guy to survive the day.

As the water-type shaman was nearing death, Camila’s gaze lingered on him.

Observing the life fading away, she parted her lips and took a glance towards the debris.

“…Hah!”

Clack! A hand rose atop the concrete fragments.

“What kind of confidence allows you to stir up such chaos all by yourself…?”

With that, Fatima’s form started revealing itself from the rubble as she pulled herself up.

The shaman, who had almost crossed to the other side, looked down upon the magician with a wicked grin.

Dust and soot marked her figure, yet the grin remained intact.

Stepping out from behind the rubble, Fatima first surveyed the area.

In the aftermath of the explosion, only ruins remained. Although the earth had been overturned by earth-tier sorcery, the scale was overwhelmingly magical.

The soot smeared on the exteriors of adjacent buildings was substantial. The flames that incinerated a block were truly exceptional. The shaman surveyed the scene where fire had passed and, upon noticing the dying water-type shaman, clicked her tongue.

“He’s dead.”

“…….”

“Well, that’s a relief. One less mouth to feed.”

The shaman mocked the death of her comrade. There was no trace of guilt in her tone or expression.

Something like, “Great, I can split the bounty in half,” or wishing the guy had lasted longer. Just like a madwoman, she muttered to herself before suddenly speaking in a perfectly normal voice.

“My name is Fatima. What’s yours?”

The shaman’s gaze shifted toward Camila. It was a scene reminiscent of a knight disclosing their identity before a duel.

But Camila did not reply.

Instead, she spread her palm and concentrated.

As the shaman leapt down to the ground, she clicked her tongue lightly.

“…Tsk. You should at least say your name before you die, you unlucky girl.”

Her thumbs touched each other. Fingers became intertwined.

A mirage began to appear, and red waves surged.

As Camila took a large step forward, the shaman lowered her stance, firmly planting her feet.

The ground beneath her heels twisted, emitting an ominous color.

The dance of fire and sand began to unfold.


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