A Dark Fantasy Spy

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After the commotion passed, the refugee camp returned to a state of tranquility.

The warm sunlight tickled my skin, and my eyelids began to droop involuntarily. It seemed I hadn’t slept in days.

Ibrahim, seated on a bench, continued speaking.

“Under the Holy See’s orders, the protection detail for Saint Lucia has been strengthened. For the time being, there’s nothing to worry about.”

The soldiers of the cult surveyed the camp.

The camp, accommodating tens of thousands of refugees, was as large as a small town, and just by looking at the number of people gathered here, it felt as though most of the refugees had flocked together.

“Saint Lucia must be exhausted as well. She has taken on the mission of protecting the weak, but it must be burdensome for her to embrace so many refugees….”

“Right now, we’re only dealing with the refugees here, but more will come tomorrow. The rumors of the Saint appearing here have spread widely across other camps.”

A child playing in the open field kicked a ball with all their might.

The ball soared over the lines drawn in powder, crossing to the other side, and soon countless kids began to chase after it.

I watched the children playing with the ball and continued speaking, as the information exchange wasn’t over yet.

“During the interrogation of Yunus, I uncovered the transportation arrangements made by the cultists. It’s a long-distance bus that departed from a nearby city three days ago. They should be nearing the border about now.”

“There are direct routes from the border to the Necropolis. How about capturing them at the checkpoint? We could bribe the government troops or set up ambushes nearby.”

“That won’t be easy. Since we’ve arrived, surveillance in the border areas has tightened. Bribing the government troops or ambushing at the checkpoint has become difficult.”

“So, what now?”

I answered shortly.

“To catch a tiger, you must enter its den.”

“You’re suggesting we head into the Necropolis.”

Ibrahim nodded as if understanding.

The cult-hunting expert shared what he knew.

“The Necropolis is a vast city, but it’s also extremely dangerous. With exiles, murderers, and smugglers everywhere, mixed with the locals, it’s a place teeming with diverse threats. Finding cultists there won’t be easy.”

When has anything ever been simple? I spat the chewed beeswax and replied.

“It seems Sanya isn’t fully trusting the cultists. They must have their own insurance against being found out. We’ll have to utilize that to pinpoint the cultists.”

“Then that’s a relief.”

Just then, an uninvited guest appeared from behind as we exchanged information.

“What are you all up to?”

It was Camila’s voice.

Ibrahim, who sneaked a glance at her, shifted to another spot. Camila approached us with a bright smile, oblivious to the situation.

“What were you doing? From afar, it looked like you were talking to someone.”

“Nothing at all. By the way, what brings you to the camp, Camila? I thought you were in the no man’s land.”

“I stopped by the peacekeeping force’s base for supplies. While I was at it, I heard that Lucia was here, so I came to check.”

Camila lightly punched her shoulder with a playful grunt, apparently worn out from the monster-hunting task in the no man’s land.

“You look tired.”

“Don’t even get me started…. With the government troops and warlords, even nomads… they say it’s a land where no one lives, but when you actually get there, it’s overflowing with people!”

“Nomads?”

“They’re tribes that cross the desert with livestock and can appear out of nowhere during battles… Last time, while hunting a monster, nomads showed up, causing the goats they were herding to get shot.”

Camila explained that nomads often intrude into the peacekeeping troops’ operational areas and intentionally cause damage since they can claim compensation for the livestock that dies.

It was an easy way to make money by exploiting the reluctance of foreign troops to clash with the locals.

Of course, they were out of luck with the government troops. They were a dictator’s army, after all.

One had to exercise caution to avoid being beaten to a pulp by pseudo-warlords who didn’t care about casualties. The real warlords were dangerous too.

“…But I must say, perhaps it’s because the area hasn’t been touched by human hands, but the scenery was quite beautiful. When this is all over, would you like to go see it together?”

“With Lucia and Francesca? Just the four of us?”

“Absolutely!”

“Let’s do it.”

Perhaps since Camila had been operating solo for the past few days, she started recounting the events that happened in the no man’s land, one after another.

Most of it was about where she fought or what monster she faced, but just hearing snippets made it clear how much she had struggled.

Thus, with a hint of guilt, I awkwardly cleared my throat and spoke.

“Camila.”

“Yeah?”

“It seems my trip might take a bit longer.”

Upon hearing the sudden news, her expression darkened. She looked a mix of disappointed and sympathetic.

After a brief silence, she forced a bright smile but couldn’t hide her unease.

“Alright! Well, I suppose I can always go see it later. Can I come along?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll be going with my team.”

“…Ah, the team.”

“We’ll be moving together, and we’re planning to go quite far. I can’t say for sure how long it will take, but I’ll definitely be back at least a week later.”

“Be careful along the way. Don’t get hurt.”

Regarded as a protector, Lucia encouraged me to return safely. Of course, the actual protection would be handled by the Knights Order, but if she was helping, it should be alright.

As I heard Camila confidently assuring me to trust her, I couldn’t help but chuckle and made a joke.

“Please don’t raid the snacks from Lucia’s infirmary. Those are for the refugees.”

“Wha-what are you saying?! Do I look like the kind of person who would steal food from refugees?!”

“I was just joking. Why are you so worked up?”

With Camila getting fired up over what was supposed to be a light joke, she eventually regained her composure and let out a sigh.

“Anyway… come back safe. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Of course.”

“Better bring back some new comrades too.”

As if that would go according to plan. It should happen on my terms, right?

Camila waved her hands and dashed off to the headquarters building to ask about Lucia’s whereabouts. Just a while later, she rushed back out, poking her head out the front door and shouted with all her might.

“Bring me back something delicious when you come back! Last time’s cookies, let’s call it even!”

As I waved back at Camila, speaking loudly with my hand cupped over my mouth, I shouted,

“See you later!”

*

“See you later? What does that even mean?”

“Why are you saying that again?”

“When have I ever been like this?”

A blunt voice pricked my ears. Francesca shot me a glance, her expression sulky, and then she turned on her heels and marched away.

“What’s with you, Francesca? Just because I said hello for a moment….”

“Oh, sure. That sounds reasonable.”

“Seriously….”

I was caught chatting with Camila before heading out. Well, in truth, it wasn’t even something I was trying to hide. I hadn’t tried to conceal it at all.

But for some reason, Francesca seemed highly displeased by the sight of us exchanging greetings.

“You got pouty over just a brief hello with Lucia the other day, and now it’s Camila?”

“Who says I’m pouting?”

“Then what’s with this attitude?”

“I don’t really understand what you mean. Perhaps the Colonel did something wrong to make you turn away from me?”

Francesca was brazenly spinning her lies without a trace of shame.

Since I had exchanged greetings with Lucia after a long time, she had been looking at me with dubious eyes, like someone who suspected their partner of cheating.

Of course, it was true. If we were to be technical about it, I hadn’t cheated on Lucia; I had cheated on Francesca…

From her point of view, it was a situation that well warranted suspicion of infidelity.

Still, isn’t it a bit much to be suspecting someone over a simple greeting? When I shot her a look in that sentiment, Francesca started glaring icy daggers at me.

“You know, for just a simple greeting, the way you and the Saint looked at one another was anything but ordinary. It looked as if honey was oozing from your eyes.”

Upon hearing that retort, I could only swallow my rebuttal. Instead of a protest, what came out was an answer that was unconvincing even to myself.

“It’s just a misunderstanding.”

“Ah, misunderstandings. That’s what everyone says at first, isn’t it?”

“I’m telling the truth….”

I pleaded for her to believe me, but it was no use. Francesca was definitely in a sulk.

I walked behind her in silence while Francesca crossed the corridor without sparing a glance my way.

Though our relationship felt slightly awkward, she was still a woman who could differentiate between work and personal feelings. She changed the subject with her usual tone, unaffected.

“I’ve inquired about whether there are any mages who can make contact with the Necropolis as you requested the other day.”

The day I met with Ibrahim, I sought her out for help.

I asked if she knew anyone in the Necropolis. In case she had a contact there, I wanted her assistance to gain entry.

Francesca conveyed the information she had gathered.

“I know of someone, but we’re not too familiar. I focused on finding those who can be of help to us, but who also have a solid identity and are discreet.”

“So, did you find anyone?”

She handed me a business card.

I took the card from between my fingers, and Francesca continued her explanation.

“This is a mage who went over to the Ivory Tower from the Magic Tower. His affiliation is with the Alchemy School. He was someone I attended classes with a while back.”

“So he went to the Ivory Tower looking for his aptitude. It is the heartland of Alchemy… What’s he been doing in the Necropolis?”

“According to stories from our classmates, he opened a small potion shop. Apparently, he sells not only potions but also materials for alchemy and ingredients for spells. Rumors have it he might also deal in illegal items.”

In the magical society, illegal items refer to those banned between the Magic Tower and the Ivory Tower.

However, items prohibited by the magical society are traded openly in the Necropolis. Why?

Because it’s the Necropolis.

“Sounds like a shadowy business as expected for a Magic Tower.”

“Please don’t call it a Magic Tower. It tends to hurt the feelings of those associated with it.”

“It’s just a metaphor.”

People often refer to three major magical societies: the Magic Tower, Ivory Tower, and the Necropolis.

However, both the Magic Tower and the Ivory Tower encourage referring to themselves as the two major magical societies rather than the three.

The Necropolis was, after all, a place of shadows.

Francesca crossed the corridor and opened the door to the hotel room where two information officers awaiting deployment to the Necropolis were waiting.

In the center of the room stood the alchemist, drawing the attention of the guests.

“Now, everyone gathered here will be entering the Necropolis with me starting today. Is everyone present?”

I nodded, glancing at the two information officers.

“Looks like familiar faces all around.”

As if in response to my words, a tail began to sway side to side.

With characteristic cat ears and vertically slit pupils, the physique of this beastman reflected a blend of humans and animals.

Often described as cat whiskers, the noticeably plush whiskers on this beastman sat curled up like a fluffy mat, letting out a long meow.

“Meow…!”

Kair. The first information officer drafted into the team headed for the Necropolis.

And the second information officer was someone I was well acquainted with.

With pointed yet diminutive ears that resembled a fairy more than an elf, and shimmering orange bobbed hair.

Despite working nights for several days, her skin maintained a glossy smoothness more enchanting than magic, and her small frame evoked images of a child, making her mere existence a marvel in of itself.

A nymph, Charnoy.

“Eek…!”

Upon seeing me, Charnoy, who’d been playing with Kair’s tail, jumped up in alarm. She was startled enough to forget about the tail she was holding and left it stretched taut.

While the beastman fizzed out shock, the trembling nymph pointed a shaking finger at us.

“Wh-why is that person here?!”

The person Charnoy pointed at was Francesca.

I was about to ask both the nymph and the mage if there was a problem but was interrupted when Francesca clapped her hands and beamed.

“Oh my, I didn’t expect to see a nymph here! Have you thought about my proposal from last time in the Empire?”

“Eek…! That mage is here again…!”

Charnoy, who had jumped while holding Kair’s tail, began stirring up a ruckus, demanding the Inquisition be summoned to apprehend Francesca, or contact the Al-Yabd Inquisition Committee. As I looked back and forth between Francesca and Charnoy, I finally started to understand the situation.

Ah, come to think of it, Francesca and Charnoy had met once before.

Was it when they gathered in the Empire prior to the northern expedition? When Charnoy visited Francesca, she had suggested something about helping her procure wristbones, which shocked Charnoy just like now.

“Kair…! You must drive that mage away!”

“Stop pulling on my tail…!”

“My wrist bones are something I can never give up!”

The nymph pulling on her tail and the beastman crying out—what a bewildering combination that was. I pressed my temple as I turned to Francesca.

“Could you please stop? She’s going to cry.”

“Ah, what a joke it was.”

While Francesca found it amusing to watch my struggle, I was busy trying to extricate Charnoy from Kair.

Eventually, the identities of the three individuals were settled, even if both the nymph and the beastman were not technically ‘people.’

As Charnoy and Kair opened their files to memorize their identities, I sat next to Francesca, who was drinking water, staring off into space.

“Thank you for setting up the identities. It was a challenging request, and your help eased the burden.”

“Who else would guide you to the Necropolis if not me?”

Thinking back, she wasn’t wrong. Lucia was a priest and Camila was a mage, neither of whom were affiliated with the magical society. Thus, whether I liked it or not, I had to rely on Francesca’s assistance to enter the Necropolis.

Despite the awkwardness of having been in a huff, I should have been the one grateful for her agreement to help. Relieved, I turned my attention back to her.

“Thank you for your efforts, Francesca.”

However.

Something seemed off.

“Uhm….”

Francesca’s gaze as she tipped her glass toward me was anything but ordinary. She had that look of someone who was hatching a plot.

Those eyes reminded me of Veronica right before a prank.

“…What’s wrong?”

When I asked, feeling a twinge of caution, Francesca grinned and pulled out a file from her bag.

“What’s this?”

“Your identity.”

“Oh, mine?”

I didn’t need one of those.

Originally, I planned to disguise myself as a translator to enter the Necropolis. However, it seemed Francesca had other ideas.

She suggested, since there was already a beastman disguised as a local, there was no need for anyone to be a translator. It would be more advantageous to use the identity she had prepared, and with a hint of mystery, she implied I might actually like it.

A desirable identity, huh? What am I, an underground trader or something?

I stared with a puzzled expression as I opened the file. Moments later,

“…What the hell is this?”

Shuddering like a dry leaf, I began to tremble.

As the paper quivered, Francesca stepped behind me, taking the document from my hands. With her weight behind it, she pressed against my head and nonchalantly asked,

“Why the long face, Colonel? Is my gift not to your liking?”

“No….”

Francesca, grinning unsettlingly, pinched the paper between her fingers and waved it playfully.

“Having a servant is nothing to be ashamed of.”

A servant.

That was the identity assigned to me.

So, in other words, to put it in plain terms,

“You’re asking me to play your slave?”

“Technically, it would be a family servant. It’d be rude to call you a slave. If anyone overheard, I might get accused of mistreating the Colonel!”

“Is this some sort of twisted joke?”

Francesca merely smiled without responding.

I found myself staring blankly into space.

Having worked in the Information Agency for about twenty years, on this day, I became for the first time in my life a mage’s servant.