A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The morning arrives in the yellow city.

Even though the temperature variation in the desert is significant, August isn’t typically a time for drastic temperature changes. After putting on a suitable coat and opening the window, the cool traveler, who had been journeying across the vast wasteland, exchanged his deep sleep for a breath of fresh air and departed.

I splashed cold water on my face and tidied up my disheveled appearance.

I pulled out a cigarette, which once was a habit but had now turned into a reflex, and lit it.

“Ah….”

The smoke that rose in the tranquil morning was dreamlike. Draped in a pale mist, I pressed my lips against the filter, and the smoke danced around my mouth, leaving a strange aftertaste as it dispersed into the air.

I crushed the cigarette into the ashtray and tilted my head back. Drifting slightly in a daze, I closed my eyes and fell into a reverie.

—

Episode 17 – The Tree That Drinks Blood

Even humans, the pinnacle of creation, have predators. Sometimes, those predators come disguised in the forms of religion, race, or nationality. Humanity’s greatest adversary is not the beasts nor the plagues, but humanity itself.

The Century Inventor developed the machine gun to end war, and the great scientist invented the atomic bomb, yet peace remained distant and perilous, like a flower blooming on the edge of an abyss.

The war that was supposed to end all wars only left seeds for another war, which sprouted into a great tree that engulfed the entire world. A weapon that could claim hundreds of lives with a mere finger point now holds the power to erase human civilization with just the push of a button.

In that sense, it was a perfectly natural phenomenon for an ordinary human to smack the crown of a nagging saint, following the well-established principle of thousands of years of history.

“Ouch! That hurts….”

As a playful hit landed on her head, Veronica rubbed her scalp and raised her voice.

“Who told you to nag?”

“What a narrow-minded man who can’t even take a joke….”

“I have feelings too. If you keep spouting nonsense, I might just have to act like a thug.”

You don’t expect me to hit you like a thug, do you?

As I clenched my fist and gently waved it, Veronica whipped her head away with a snap. There was not a trace of the saint’s dignity to be found on her sulking face.

“What did Raphaelo send you here for? Are we playing twenty questions?”

“Colonel, you’ve gotten quite aggressive since we last met…. You wouldn’t be treating our younger siblings this way, would you?”

“Of course not.”

“…Then why are you being such a pain to me…?”

“You’re the one who makes me mad!”

It’s said that the person everyone loves is just a star, but when you drive both the fans and critics wild at the same time, you become a superstar. That’s a saying from a legendary singer.

In that context, Veronica was not just a star but a superstar. It was impressive how she could turn kind words into rage with just a phrase. Watching her mouth move, one could easily guess why the Pope collapsed from high blood pressure.

“Ugh…. Let’s not talk anymore.”

Let’s just not say anything. I waved my hand dismissively with a tired expression.

Sticking close to the sulking Veronica, the atmosphere relaxed a bit, and her pouty lips retracted slightly.

“Do you think I’d like this kind of treatment?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“…Here.”

With a tap, her slender finger pointed at her cheek. There was no need to question what that meant.

The diverted gaze and uneven breathing. Her reaction was so blatantly obvious that I could agree without a second thought.

“Ugh, mmm….”

With a startled jerk, Veronica looked at me with wide eyes. It was as if she were saying she didn’t actually expect me to do it.

Of course, she wasn’t the type to be easily satisfied. A strange smile appeared on her face, which had been consistent with her teasing expression.

Her outstretched fingers brushed against my lips. Momentarily lost, they began to explore here and there. While I was willing to humor a fair amount of things, it was getting overtly bold to the point of being outrageous, and I could only be horrified.

“Ugh….”

“What’s with that reaction?”

“Well, there should be limits. How far are you trying to cross the line…?”

“When did we ever care about the line? Oh, fine, I’ll stop playing around here.”

As if I had given in, Veronica broke into a pleasant laugh.

—

After a while, she broke the silence, having rubbed her lips and cheeks and every inch of her fair skin.

“First of all…. Officially, I’m here to deal with the vampire problem like other clergy, but the real reason the old man in the Seat sent me here is different.”

The brazen blasphemy of comparing the Pope to an old man was still ongoing.

I sat across from her and tried to guess Raphaelo’s intentions while Veronica crossed her legs and lit a cigar.

“Do you know who the Priest of Al-Yabd is, Colonel?”

“The Priest? Ah, that shaman…. I definitely know him.”

The religious and political leader of Al-Yabd, the priest was a very famous shaman.

After all, there were only two left in the world who were considered ‘Archmages.’

In terms of position, he was on par with Alexandra Petrovna, the Duke who claimed to be Camila’s mentor.

With that, the Saint of the Cult whispered.

“Well, Al-Yabd doesn’t treat us too kindly, but those old men don’t act recklessly either. The bishops and cardinals were worried that Lucia would provoke them before arriving here, but it hasn’t been a major issue for nearly a month now, right?”

“True.”

“It seems the Holy See has decided to leave Al-Yabd alone rather than risk a friction by making any provocations against the saint. Coincidentally, the Duke has connections with the Hero. If something goes wrong, they might want to use the Hero to smooth things over….”

“Wait. What? Use whom as a shield?”

As I interrupted, Veronica paused for a moment and then started to smile awkwardly.

“…A shield, you say?”

“You just said that.”

“Oh ho ho! If someone overheard this, they would misunderstand—I’m just saying we’d use connections to resolve issues efficiently, not that we’d use the Hero as a shield….”

“……”

“It was not me, but some old man who claimed it.”

Veronica deftly pushed the blame onto the bishop.

While I pondered how to roast the bishop effectively, Veronica cleared her throat and tapped the table, switching the subject.

“Anyway, we can discuss that later…. The members of the Order of the Holy Knights who found the vampire brought back information from the cult, right? The Inquisition has analyzed it, and apparently, something interesting has come up.”

“And what is this interesting information?”

“I haven’t heard the details yet as the analysis is still underway, but according to the Inquisition Director….”

Leaning back in her chair, she took a puff from her cigar.

“The group that stole Lucia’s blood might be related to Al-Yabd.”

Puffing out the hazy smoke obscured Veronica’s face.

“With that, it seems I should conduct an investigation personally, don’t you think?”

—

A new hypothesis was raised. The claim that the cult ‘Al Kair,’ which had stolen Lucia’s blood, was connected to the large religious group ‘Al-Yabd.’

At first glance, it sounded absurd, but it wasn’t entirely without its realism.

Even Arab nations, divided into Sunni and Shia, often join forces when facing Israel.

Considering cases where Iran, a Shia state, supported Hamas, a Sunni group, and Turkey intervened deeply in Syria by backing rebels, there was sufficient possibility that Al-Yabd could be associated with the cult.

However, to ascertain where the connections were indicated and what specific hypotheses were under discussion, I needed to check the information from the Inquisition.

I went in search of a collaborator who could help me obtain internal reports from the Inquisition.

“Long time no see, Priest Rebecca.”

The former secretary of the Inquisition Director and the Saint’s assistant, Rebecca, was currently in the Mauritania Continent.

“I heard your injury was serious, but it seems you’ve improved. You’re being dispatched again.”

“I finished intensive treatment a while back.”

Rebecca, who had her mint-colored hair covered with a hat, confidently raised her arm.

“I’ve completed rehabilitation and returned to the field.”

The scars left by the exorcist possessed by a demon had considerably faded. A grievous wound that had once turned her skin necrotic and marred her bone marrow had healed miraculously.

Though the treatment was completed, scars lingered as they do with any injury. Looking down at her scarred skin, Rebecca smiled brightly and handed me an envelope.

“The materials you requested.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re the one who needs to thank the Director, not me. Director Petrus asked me to send his regards to you.”

“Is he safe? I heard he still hasn’t retired. He must be getting on in years….”

“The Holy See rejected his resignation, so he has no choice. But until a successor is determined, he should be fine to carry out his duties.”

“…Thank you. Please send my regards back to him.”

Having traded with Priest Rebecca for a long time, and since she was introduced to me by none other than Director Petrus, I could trust her.

I examined the internal report from the Inquisition and then reported it to Leoni. As a company that operates 24/7, it didn’t take long to receive a response.

-‘The cult that stole the holy blood may be connected to Al-Yabd…. That’s not good news.’

“Senior Analyst Larry reviewed the materials and found them to be credible. Pippin agrees.”

The opinions of the Military Intelligence Analyst and the Royal Intelligence Department Analyst matched up. The Inquisition’s internal report apparently had valid grounds.

That meant there was a possibility that Al-Yabd might have some connection with the cult ‘Al Kair.’

“Of course, there’s no other evidence to back up the materials secured from the cult’s hiding place. The only evidence we have is a few documents saved on the alchemy card, which the Inquisition doubts the validity of….”

-‘So that’s why the saint came personally?’

“Yes.”

Even though the Inquisition had gathered information, Raphaelo was not satisfied with just that. The newly enthroned Pope had issued orders for the Intelligence Department, Foreign Affairs, and Defense Ministries to secure tangible evidence, and he even dispatched Veronica to ensure everything was handled properly.

While I could confirm any information the Inquisition gathered directly, there is a vast difference between receiving shared information and analyzing intelligence firsthand. Leoni’s thoughts were pretty much in line with that.

-‘Then we should take the initiative first.’

“Yes, so I’m planning to visit the port where the dead whale is again.”

-‘The company will send someone as well.’

Leoni mentioned that she would mobilize personnel from the Abas information agencies to build an intelligence network in the Necropolis.

Considering the situation where wizards couldn’t be deployed for overseas operations due to the Nastasia Treaty, I was curious whether there was a way to establish that intelligence network, but there was no need for deep contemplation. After all, I myself had received assistance from Francesca, didn’t I?

Of course, there was someone who helped me infiltrate the Necropolis.

That wizard, Joaquin Goodman. A resident who had lived near the port of the dead whale for quite some time.

I needed his help again.

“What? You’re saying you want to go back there again?”

Joaquin, who had fled the city alongside us when we escaped, was now living in a village near the refugee camp.

To be exact, it’s a safe house. The house I had gotten for him.

“Ugh, um…. Gulp! I almost choked on my bread.”

Looking at me with his cheeks stuffed with food, Joaquin scratched his head sheepishly.

“Really, you want to go back to the Necropolis? Wow, how bold… How are you planning to get back in there?”

“It just turned out that way.”

“I don’t know what it is, but I’ll cheer for you, and I’ll even pray for your safe return. But if you don’t come back, I’ll remember you! …By the way, why are you here again?”

“Because I need your help.”

“Ugh-”

Joaquin stuck out his tongue in disgust. A grown man acting like that made it slightly unpleasant.

“You’re not trying to say you want me to go back to the Necropolis, are you? No way, if I go back now and get caught, I might actually die!”

“Don’t worry about that. I have someone who can guarantee my identity. If you really don’t want to go, I won’t force you. You just need to provide information about the city.”

“Oh, now that sounds tempting! Let’s go home!”

“……”

He keeps changing his mind. He said he wouldn’t go before and now he says he will. Is he really a weirdo?

It’s been over a week since he quit drugs, but Joaquin’s state still seemed a bit off. Was it withdrawal symptoms?

Anyhow.

The company’s approval had come through, and I’d secured a knowledgeable collaborator about the city. There was no time to lose, so I had to hurry and finish my preparations.

As Joaquin, who had been bouncing around excitedly, suddenly asked me a question.

“Huh? But who’s guaranteeing your identity that’ll let you into the city? Normally, you can’t get into places like this with just anyone vouching for you. Even if you sweet-talk a wizard, they probably won’t let you in!”

I briefly responded while on my way outside.

“There are always ways.”

—

“…Yes. I just need you to make a few identification cards. It would also be good to have a guarantee letter, just in case. I hope this isn’t too much of a bother….”

-‘Not at all. You needn’t feel burdened. If you need help, we should help each other, right?’

“Yes, that’s right.”

-‘When you arrive at the port, my staff will come to greet you. It’ll be a bit more comfortable to enter via sea route rather than land. Otherwise, you might face some difficulties if a ship that belongs to someone is heavily scrutinized.’

“Thank you for the advice.”

-‘I look forward to seeing you soon. Now, I must take my leave.’

The communication was cut off.

The lines and statistics that had filled the screen vanished, and I turned off the power to the cryptographic device.

I had mostly finished my preparations to depart for the Necropolis.

“…Uh, Camila. Are you ready?”

I went to find Camila to check if she was prepared.

I’d prefer to keep her in a safe place, but given the restricted activities for the general populace in the Necropolis, I absolutely needed a trustworthy wizard to take along.

In that regard, Camila was currently the best choice I had.

A wizard, strong in battle. She was friendly, and she was proficient in languages, making her a prime candidate for information gathering.

“Ready!”

Camila shouted excitedly while hopping around with her bag. Her face was filled with sheer joy.

“A city filled with wizards…! I had no idea there were places like that beyond the Magic Tower or the Ivory Tower!”

“Don’t get your hopes up too high. It’s a lawless land much like the Wild West.”

“Wow! The Wild West! Clint Eastwood! Red Dead Redemption!”

Despite my efforts to inform her about the dangers of the Necropolis to keep her cautious, it only seemed to have the opposite effect.

Draped in a blanket, Camila was striking poses as though she were some sort of cowboy. Anyway, she was certainly not normal.

After going through her belongings to check if she had everything, I wanted to add what was necessary and remove the unnecessary, but nothing seemed amiss. Perhaps due to her frequent trips to provide medical aid in the Third World, she only packed what was necessary.

Was that why the company chose to hire experienced staff?

“Get to bed early. We don’t know when we’ll be leaving.”

“Yes!”

After shooing the fidgeting Camila to bed, I returned to my lodging to check my equipment.

And so the night deepened.

—

It was dawn.

The desert, stained with sunset hues, faded into a deep navy, finally sinking into darkness. The deeply slumbering wasteland thus lost its original colors.

In the pale room, I sat still, staring into the void. The only things that filled the empty space were the flickering lights of the screen and silence.

The wind that had wandered the wasteland like a traveler rushed in. It blew through the window that I hadn’t had time to close.

After confining the pieces of paper that sought freedom into a cup, I shut the window from which the wind had blown. Then I drew the curtains tightly to block out any drafts and turned my body.

“…….”

Someone was sitting in front of the terminal.

A person was in a room colored in pale shades. It was a scene reminiscent of a horror movie, and when I reached for my gun, thankfully, I had not needed to draw it.

I approached her.

“What are you doing here? You scared me by coming in without saying a word.”

“…….”

“…Francesca?”

The one occupying the chair turned her head.

Lush Purple Waves flowed over her shoulder, and her eyes, infused with a pale glow, captured my attention.

“What’s the matter?”

“…Colonel.”

Francesca opened her mouth.

“I think we need to talk.”