A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The surroundings are as quiet as a grave.

The corridor on the third floor felt desolate enough to send chills down my spine. A sharp smell of gunpowder lingered in the dim space, and the pungent odor of blood suddenly surged forth.

I squinted my eyes, glancing around.

The drab and monotonous gray corridor. While keeping an eye on the end of the PT, members of the Order of the Holy Knights stormed into the room.

A member, weapon tightly secured, strode confidently. As one member on the right dealt with the corner’s threat, the one on the left turned his body to scan the whole compartment.

Two gun muzzles intersected briefly in the air. After thoroughly searching the nooks of the furniture and the closet, the members filtered back into the corridor and patted PT on the shoulder.

Cautious footsteps followed.

The members of the Order of the Holy Knights steadily secured the compartments on the third floor.

They resembled hunters driving rabbits, gradually tightening the noose around their prey.

-’29 minutes elapsed. At least 21 minutes, and at most 31 minutes remain.’

—

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

Matt’s low voice emanated from the radio. Time was quickly dwindling, yet the movement of the Order of the Holy Knights remained extremely cautious.

They opened the door and entered inside.

One of the waiting members from both sides signaled and crossed paths with the member standing opposite, who then followed suit.

Once they secured the corner, they searched for a place to catch their breath. A member with a pistol lifted the blanket to check under the bed while another aimed his rifle, and a different member swung open the closet.

“All clear.”

“I’m heading out.”

While keeping an eye on the firmly closed doors, I felt a gentle hand brush against my shoulder. It was a signal from a member who had emerged into the corridor.

Narrow strides muted the sound, and a suffocating silence lingered in the dreary gray space.

Carefully extending my combat boots, the member I was switching off with moved ahead. The member in front kept watch over the corridor, while the one who followed turned the handle.

Then, with a bang, the door burst open.

Like water flowing down rocks, the stock rose over my shoulder. As I crossed the threshold, I surveyed the corner, and the other members of the Order of the Holy Knights secured the rest of the corner.

They swung their gun muzzles, scanning the interior thoroughly.

While a vivid laser dotted the green world, a jarring scene caught my eye.

It was a person.

—

The finger gently pulling the trigger froze instantly.

The profusion of hair and dense beard, along with the ample attire, strongly suggested that the individual was a local from the Mauritania Continent.

Since this was a building inhabited by cultists, it naturally made sense to infer that this fellow was associated with ‘Al Kair.’

But something felt off.

“…….”

Despite seeing me burst through the door, this guy didn’t even flinch. The darkness around us couldn’t be an excuse for not noticing me; he was clearly zeroed in on me.

Upon noticing the unexpected guest at the corner, he didn’t show any expression, almost like a person in a trance.

His messy hair and unkempt beard gave him a distant resemblance to a madman rather than an ordinary citizen, and the way he knelt there, seemingly devoid of fear, eerily suggested exhaustion.

His demeanor was strikingly different from the other cultists who had fiercely resisted the members entering the room.

However,

His eyes, shrouded in shadow, gleamed brightly.

A piercing gaze, overwhelming enough to intimidate. As if suppressing some heightened emotion, the kneeling guy took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on me.

Turning my head, I locked eyes with a member of the Order of the Holy Knights who had entered the compartment. The cold, sunken eyes began to stare me down.

It was as if they were asking what I would do. Taking a decisive step towards him, I aimed my gun threateningly and said,

“Don’t move.”

“…….”

He remained kneeling on the ground. I shoved furniture aside to assess his condition.

A prayer rug, a yellowing brass bowl, and a hefty religious scripture. He must have been in the midst of a prayer.

Clear water presumed to have been used for washing hands and feet filled the bowl, while the neatly laid scripture was wide open, and then…

“…A weapon.”

A sword lay just in front of the cultist.

I quickly took a step back while keeping my aim on him. A member, now tense at the news of a weapon being present, followed closely behind me. Still, the cultist didn’t move an inch.

A member of the Order of the Holy Knights, stepping onto the furniture, shouted in the local Mauritanian dialect.

“Stay still!”

“…….”

“Don’t grab the knife!”

The kneeling cultist closed his eyes. Mumbling something in an undecipherable language, he reached out to grab the knife.

Seeing that action, the member pulled the trigger, and I also fired my weapon.

– ㅡ! ㅡ! ㅡ!

Several gunshots shattered the room’s tranquility.

The cultist, who had flinched, collapsed sideways, and in that fleeting moment, complete silence engulfed the space like a storm.

I knocked the knife aside with my boot and checked the cultist’s state. I pulled out my greatsword and prodded his eye, but there was no significant movement.

The dead cultist’s visage exuded an unsettling peace. The face that bore no frown evoked a strange familiarity.

As I looked down at his face for a while, I brought the radio closer to my lips.

“…In the sixth bedroom on the third floor, I eliminated one male of conscription age who attempted to resist.”

After pressing the button and transmitting the situation, Ibrahim’s response followed shortly.

-‘Third floor, sixth compartment. One cultist eliminated. Understood.’

Thus far, we had taken out five cultists in Building A. There were eight cultists estimated to reside here.

I asked Ibrahim how many cultists had been eliminated in Building B. Upon communicating with the entry team for Building B, he relayed his answer a moment later.

-‘It’s reported that three cultists were eliminated in Building B. Currently, the third floor of Building A has been secured, and the search of the third floor of Building B is nearly complete; we conclude that there are no remaining cultists in the operational area.’

“Understood.”

As I released the button, Ibrahim’s voice echoed across all radios.

-‘Gregory-6 to all Gregorys. The ground levels of Buildings A and B have been secured. We are now proceeding to secure the basement and begin SSE.’

—

All hazardous elements within the building had been subdued. The ground levels from the first to the third floor were secured, and now only the basement remained.

As the members assigned to the basement prepared to descend, the remaining members began to scour the building for SSE.

“Documents, photographs, pension records. Pick up every last one of them.”

“We don’t have time. Hurry up!”

Orders from Ibrahim and the assistant squad leader whirled chaotically around. Pausing on the staircase, I glanced at the members of the Order of the Holy Knights.

A member with a weapon slung over his back threw open a drawer and spilled its contents. As clothes tumbled to the floor, books poured out from the shelf and landed atop the heap.

Members of the Order of the Holy Knights ransacked every corner of the room, gathering anything potentially useful. Some members overturned drawers, others slashed mattresses and blankets with their greatswords, while some picked up tools to force open devices.

“I don’t know what this writing means. Can anyone interpret it?”

“There’s no time for interpretations. Just toss anything that looks like a document here for now.”

A member who had been dismantling a closet threw a net over to his colleagues. The member who caught it in midair hastily scooped up all the papers strewn across the table and stuffed them into the net.

“Where should I stash the pension records?!”

“Just throw them anywhere! We can sort things out later, just grab as much as you can, be it in a ration bag or whatever!”

“Got it!”

As one side was securing potentially useful materials, on the other side, the identity of the cultists was being determined.

With the light shining on the body of the deceased cultist, the photographic evidence began. Initially from the front, then from the side. The member holding the light tightly pinched the cultist’s chin to adjust angles, and another member holding magic imaging equipment twisted the lens to focus.

It was a familiar sight. I’d seen this scene often while on operations with American friends.

I went down the stairs with my rifle in hand and lit a cigarette.

Just as I exhaled the smoke curling from my lips, Ibrahim came up beside me.

“SSE is about halfway done. The search team has also descended to the basement. The basement isn’t too wide, so we’ll start prepping for extraction soon.”

It was news that we were nearing the final stages.

Once we secured the materials and holy blood, the Order of the Holy Knights would be making their exit. Of course, I had no intention of staying in the Necropolis either, so I planned to leave the city alongside the Order of the Holy Knights with the operations team.

“It would be best to use the sewage as an exit route, but depending on the situation on Ash Tree Alley, we might have to consider a different route.”

I exhaled the smoke and wiped my brow with my fingers.

“I’ll check the situation outside first. Is there anything I can assist with?”

“None. Our members are sufficient.”

The Order’s military man raised his night vision goggles slightly and nodded. After handing him the detection magical tool acquired from the Sanya Warlord, I exited the building and crossed the yard.

The operations team stationed at the periphery remained in the north.

The information officers, cloaked in shadows, kept their watchful eyes on Ash Tree Alley, when suddenly, Matt, having approached silently, grinned and extended his hand for a shake.

“That was a bloody clean operation.”

I lightly shook his hand. As Matt said, it had indeed been a bloody clean operation.

“All the cultists inside the building have been eliminated. Once the SSE concludes, the Order of the Holy Knights will emerge, so we should prepare for extraction.”

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Well, maybe within ten minutes?”

“Good. Let’s hurry home to rest.”

I chuckled at Matt’s joking tone while loosening the chin strap of my helmet.

Home, huh. I really hope I can get back soon.

It had already been over ten years since I started working with the information agency, but I still couldn’t adapt to this frustrating fieldwork.

Perhaps it’s time I consider transitioning to a desk job.

While I contemplated such absurd thoughts, a radio call came in from Kair, who had been waiting on the building’s rooftop.

-‘Can we now move to the rendezvous point?’

“Just hold on for a bit longer, Kair. Only until the Order wraps things up and comes out.”

-‘Understood.’

After Matt released his finger from the radio, he turned to leave. I walked up to the information officers and inquired about the remaining time.

The information officer checked his watch and informed me of the time left.

“There should be about 15 minutes left.”

I prompted him to refresh the calculation in case we missed anything.

The royal intelligence department officer opened his bag and pulled out the magical tool. He crossed the sand-and-gravel-strewn road, bringing the magical tool to the veil. It measured the residues of magic and divinity at the crime scene.

As I waited for the results while puffing on a cigarette, Matt’s voice suddenly reached my ears.

“There’s no one wandering the streets. It seems safe to exit through the sewage. But why on earth did those cultists steal the saint’s blood?”

“Who knows?”

“Hm….”

Matt crossed his arms, ruffling his rough beard.

“Still, something feels off….”

I flicked the butt to the ground and exhaled the smoke. Then I told Matt to inform me when everything was ready.

Just as I was about to turn back and return to the yard, suddenly:

“Hmm?”

The information officer calculating the remaining divine energy looked down at his magical tool, his face turning alarmed.

Matt glanced at him, seemingly asking if something was wrong, while I halted and turned my head as well.

“What’s happening?”

“Uh, no. It’s nothing. There seems to have been a momentary error. I’ll check again.”

“…Error?”

As I let that slip, the information officer, who had been about to press a button while holding the magical tool against the veil, turned his head.

What’s going on? Don’t make me anxious for no reason.

In the dimly lit Ash Tree Alley, amidst the hazy glow of a crystal light, the operations team officer, clearly flustered, opened his mouth.

“It suddenly… the residual divinity has sharply decreased.”

—

“…Oh?”

The member of the Order of the Holy Knights descending the stairs murmured to himself.

As he heard his colleague’s voice from behind, the leading members turned their heads.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s blood all over the place.”

It was an unexpectedly absurd response.

While the spearman on lookout wore night vision goggles, the member who stopped mid-way frowned.

“What in blazes are you babbling about? What’s the deal with the blood?”

The member spoke with a tone to snap him back to reality. However, the reaction was odd.

“……”

The member assigned to the rear stayed fixed on the ground, refusing to budge. Even when others asked what was the matter, he wouldn’t respond.

NOTICING something strange, colleagues cast anxious glances at him.

The one staring at the ground cautiously opened his mouth.

“…Hey. The blood flowing from the corpse, it’s usually headed toward the ground, right?”

“Yeah. That’s how livor mortis (postmortem hypostasis) develops. Due to gravity, the blood pools down.”

“…Did we just eliminate a cultist on the first floor?”

In response to that question, a colleague replied.

“Yeah, we caught one near the entrance. Why do you ask?”

“The place where that cultist died. Is it close to the basement?”

“No? The entrance is quite a distance from here…”

“But why,”

The member’s gaze remained fixed down as he continued speaking.

“…Is the blood running into the basement?”

“……”

“……”

In response to the colleague’s inquiry, the gaze of the members gravitated downward.

The stairs leading underground were drenched in blood.

The bright red blood stained the desert-colored combat boots, darkening them with a murky hue.

The blood, coursing down the staircase’s incline, was gradually trickling into the basement.

“Shit, what is this…?”

As the members raised their boots, the squelching sound echoed for the first time.

Flustered members hurriedly stepped to avoid the pooling blood. Those pressed against the walls and wrought iron railings sensed something was terribly wrong.

“Let’s retreat.”

One of the members decided to back off.

“Let’s head back up to the ground level and regroup with the main unit. Report the ominous sign we’ve encountered and bring holy water and sacred objects. Let’s return to the first floor, quickly!”

As the retreat command was issued, the members of the Order of the Holy Knights hurriedly began to ascend the staircase. One member, climbing the stairs behind the others, felt a strange sensation and turned around.

At the bottom of the stairs, standing at the entrance to the basement, was the spearman who had been the first to set foot in the basement.

The member ascending the stairs called out to him urgently.

“What are you doing there? Didn’t you hear that we were just ordered to retreat?”

“……”

“Oh, why is he….”

Muttering under his breath, the member hurried down to grab the spearman.

“Let’s go up. Don’t stay behind.”

“……”

“…Hey. I said let’s go up!”

The cold silence was his only response.

The spearman remained rooted in place, looking dazed as if nailed to the spot.

As if affected by the stress of everything, I grew increasingly paranoid—now even my comrades were causing me problems. The member yanked on the spearman, rifle in hand, scanning the basement.

“What the hell are you staring at…?”

His voice trailed off abruptly.

The member froze in place, chilling shivers coursing through him as he looked where the spearman was staring.

Every hair on his body stood on end, and he got the sensation that the surrounding air was chilling.

“……”

As if crushed by an unyielding power, the barrel of his gun drooped downward.

The member lowered his weapon, completely frozen. He could neither turn nor speak.

At that moment, the spearman’s lips, still gazing in the same direction as his colleague, quivered slightly.

“…Oh, God.”

The underground city of the exiled, the Necropolis.

In the dwelling of cultists on Ash Tree Alley.

In that basement, the members of the Order of the Holy Knights bore witness.

The blood seeping down to the underground as if drawn by a magnet.

The enormous box kept in the basement.

It was an ancient,

Coffin.